Senses
by Passer
Summary: All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile...H/D
1. Sense of Sight

**Title: **Senses

**Disclaimer:** I am only writing for fun. Absolutely no profit involved, cross my heart.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Summary: **All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

**Author's notes: **Please do enjoy and don't forget, review and save a fairy.

**Senses: **

**Sense of sight **

_Truthfully, I've never been big on believing in fate. Or heck any sort of divination, because really, I've not had the easiest of lives. And you don't seriously expect me to believe that God, or whoever is up there has some sort of personal vendetta against me, of all 7.6 billion people in the world? _

_So, no, I don't really believe in divinity, enough said. _

_All my life I have been doing what has been expected of me. Initially, it was, "Boy, clean the table" from Uncle Vernon, or "Don't burn the toast boy" from Aunt Petunia or even, "Hey, be my punching bag for the afternoon, Potter." from Dudley. At some point, though, I had hoped that maybe I would be able to make my own decisions, do what I want to do, live the way I want to. _

_Once discovered as the "Boy- Who-Lived", what little hope I had to live my own life, I lost. Because, after that, I was just a puppet. Only now, people said, "Please, Harry." And "We only want you to be happy, Harry." It was as much emotional blackmail as anything else really. _

_But maybe, for once in my life, I felt needed. And believe me, it felt good to be needed. So I smiled and nodded and went on with my life, my life that other people were living for me._

_So do you really blame me for resenting him on sight? _

_He walked as if the earth was keening and craving to be graced with the touch of his feet, his steps slow, graceful and his feet going higher than they actually needed to go. Strutting of sorts. Even back then, when there was no imminent threat of death on the horizon and no one cared about pureblood ranks, he walked as if he knew his worth, knew that no matter what they did, there were people in the world who would never be his equal. _

_First thing that he did after introducing himself to me was insult the first ever friend I had made. So obviously, I was going to turn him down, no questions asked. In the years since then, though I wouldn't really admit it on the pain of death I have often wondered how my life would have turned out if I had accepted his hand. _

"Harry? You in here?"

His contemplative smile dimmed a bit, it was not really the best time for her to be there. But he rolled with the circumstances as usual. "Yeah, up here, Gin." He called, dropping his quill and standing, stretching. He heard her soft foot falls on the stairs and made his way down the second flight of stairs. She smiled as she saw him, the affection in his eyes mirrored double-fold in hers. She reached up and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "Hi."

He ginned against her lips, pulling her tighter against him and deepening it. "Hi yourself, beautiful." It did not take much effort, really, to keep those he valued happy.

"How was training?" He asked her as he led the way downstairs. "Not too bad." She shrugged. "We have a definite chance of making it into the finals, what with Krum out of the way." She nodded. "Bulgaria's not going to be much of a challenge this time around." He set the kettle for tea and frowned. "Yeah, tough."

He turned to look at her as she sat herself down at his table. "But I did hear that they have got a wild card." He raised an eyebrow at her. "One that they haven't pulled yet, a new seeker?" Ginny nodded. "Yeah, but Oliver is not too worried."

Harry fought the pull of a grin on his lips.

He gave Ginny her cup and they moved to the couch in the sitting room- or parlor as Hermione had teasingly dubbed it after Harry had refurbished the dark, dank house leaving it light and airy- feeling more like a proper home, a home where people whose heads were turned the right way around could dwell.

The lamp had been flicked on, bathing the room in a soft golden light, giving the watcher a feeling of floating in a dream. Ginny took a sip of the tea, her eyes straying to Harry's over the rim. She moved closer, when he smiled invitingly and draped herself over him, one hand wounding around his torso. Rather reflexively, he threw an arm around her waist.

"Mum wants to know when we can have the wedding." She murmured, loath to break the serenity of the moment. Harry stiffened at once in her arms. She ignored it. Harry was happy with her, it was a fact. They were meant to be, everyone with half a brain knew that.

So why had they been engaged for three years and not married yet? She did not let her mind go there. She raised her head when he did not reply. "Harry?" He turned and smiled down at her, "Whenever you want, Ginny." He promised. Smiling, she leant over and kissed him, fiercely.

_And that was that, I suppose. They said, "Harry, let's have the wedding in spring." And I nodded, despite how cliché it was. What did Harry want? Well, he wanted to elope, to the Caribbean, on a broomstick, on a rainy day, in a pair of old jeans and threadbare sweatshirt. But nobody asked me, and so I told nobody. I told myself it was what I had always wanted. That after Voldemort, normal was good. So what if it was a little boring? _

_The kind of life I would have after my marriage to Ginny was the kind of thing that dreams were made of. I ignored the fact that I had never really known how to dream at all. _

_But all it took for me to learn was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile…_

"Hurry up, mate." Ronald Weasley called from the bottom of the stairs. Harry came racing down, the bright, happy grin an almost permanent fixture on his face. Ron grinned back, excited. "All set, Harry?" "What are we waiting for, you git?" Harry called, racing out the doors and smiling beautifully when Ron hollered indignantly and followed.

The stands were packed as they never had been that season and Harry shifted between Hermione and Ron, almost psychotically excited about the match. "Pretty packed, yeah?" Hermione threw the question to her left where both her friends sat, not specifically targeting one of them. Harry hummed under his breath and Ron grumbled, "Wonder why people are going mental over this game. Krum is not even playing this time."

A roar went up from the spectators as the Magpies were announced and as they flew into the arena. Ginny grinned when she spotted Harry and blew a kiss to him. He waved, smiling. She raised a two-finger salute to her brother and his wife and they smiled, encouragingly. A sudden hush fell over the crowd when the commentator announced the Bulgarians.

The crowd took in a breath as one as they swooped into the field, one by one. "The Bulgarians, beautiful people and their newest seeker…" A very blonde someone followed the line-up order of his team into the Quidditch field, a very blonde _familiar _someone.

Ron's incredulous; "Malfoy?" brought all the thunderous applause back into focus for Harry whose entire world had gone dark and silent for a moment.

Draco Malfoy.

_I've learned that though people say that having an obsession is unhealthy, it could actually keep you sane; depending upon what that obsession is, of course. The entirety of sixth year at Hogwarts, my life revolved around one thing, person rather and that was Draco Malfoy. You could say that in those years, when you could lose everything that meant something to you in the blink of an eye, having something as mundane a compulsion to watch a fellow year-mate was grounding. _

_Though the compulsion did not take root from a mundane reason, whatsoever. _

_I hated him, then. It was nothing but hate, period, plain and simple. I wanted to find something incriminating on him and I stalked him desperately to find it. When I actually did, it was too late for Professor Dumbledore. And it was too late for Malfoy, too late for him to pretend that he wasn't human, too little evidence to prove the same, hence, too late. _

_I had already seen him lower his wand; I had seen some faith where it had mattered, even if he was not aware of that little fact. _

_After that particular incident, I next saw him during the final battle. Ashen and gray, so, so thin, scared, yet, his eyes- they glinted almost protectively as he stood over his mother's prone body, guarding her from both sides, perhaps even from himself, loving her- _

_It was like watching a once mighty tower crumble to the ground, at his mother's funeral; which incidentally took place on the day of his hearing. It was the same compulsion that bid me to trail him in the sixth year and bid me to make sure he did not end up in Azkaban. Through the feeling of pity, sympathy to put it more kindly for a fellow human being, someone I grew up with; there was only indifference to the boy I knew as Draco Malfoy. _

_But it was not hate anymore, and somehow that made all the difference…._

"And Draco Malfoy catches the snitch…."

Ron grinned brightly. "Blimey mate, the sodding git is actually a bloody good flyer." Harry glanced to his left, unable to stop the matching grin blooming over his lips. Hermione chuckled. "Well, he did play fairly well in Hogwarts." She threw an arm around Harry. "Of course, he was no match for our Harry, though."

Ron laughed. "Who was?" Harry blushed, smiling fondly.

They watched as Malfoy descended to the ground in a sharp nose-dive. The crowd gasped collectively as it looked like he would crash straight into the earth, but maneuvering the broom-perfect control- he pulled up a scant millimeter from the ground and jumped of his broom in a graceful movement neither Harry nor Ron would be able to emulate on the pain of demise. A cheer arose from the stands as Malfoy's team-mates hauled him up into their arms and raised him high up into the air.

Malfoy raised his right hand, the snitch clasped delicately between his slender glove-clad fingers, smirking in triumph, as the crowd went wild. Harry stood as well, beaming and raised his hands to clap. Malfoy's head lifted to the stands like he had been called for and his gun-metal grey eyes, stewing in pleasure and pride, a pride well-deserved; zeroed in on Harry. A moment later, he bowed his head, very slightly in recognition. Harry chuckled and clapped harder.

_That was a turn-about of sorts. Only then, I didn't realize it. After four years of being MIA, Malfoy's role in my life? Zilch, Nada…He just wasn't important anymore. Only, I didn't really believe that, I mean really and truly. _

_He would always be a part of my life, whether it was hurling insults at each other in corridors or me standing in some gallery cheering as the boy whom I've played against countless number of times caught the snitch. _

_I was pretty much resigned to the verity that there was no escaping the blonde prat. But it did surprise me how easily I had accepted that. _

There was a loud crash, followed by lots of swearing. "How could we have possible lost to _him_?" She shrieked flailing her hands about, like she was swatting away some invisible enemy. "Ginny, it's just one game, calm down." Harry's pleasant baritone soothed. He put his arms around the incensed girl and spoke, "You can show him and his team next game."

"Oliver is not too worried." Hermione trilled, laughing, unknowingly mocking Ginny's very words. Ron tried to suppress a snort and failed. Ginny buried her head in her arms leaning into Harry. He wrapped her in his arms and looked up at Ron and Hermione, his voice sharp. "That's enough guys." He chided, the amused glint in his jade green eyes telling a different story.

Ron snorted again.

"What is it with you, you insensitive prat?" Ginny wailed, dramatically, clutching at Harry's shirt. "Go home if you cannot be a supportive big brother." There was a moment's pause and then Ron burst out laughing. Not a moment later, he was joined by Hermione. The couple clutched at the table and Ron managed to get out between words, "You should have _wheeze _seen your_ wheeze _face when he caught the snitch…_" _

Hermione giggled uncontrollably. "It was really quite priceless, you know." Ginny huffed indignantly and turned to look at Harry, whose eyes were crinkled in the corners. He was desperately trying to keep his lips from blooming into a grin. Reluctantly, she let herself smile. At his cue, Harry began chuckling hard as well. Ginny grinned. "It must have been something, huh?" Ron nodded, still laughing. Harry hit Ginny gently on her shoulder. Ginny laughed, winking at Hermione. "We were pretty shocked, after all of Olli's reassurances that we had nothing to be afraid of. And then the prat shows up and suddenly he's as good as Harry." She admitted.

"But it's alright I suppose." She conceded, and Ron smiled fondly at her. "We'll get them next time." Ron grinned. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, I suppose, little sister." He teased. "You git." Grinning back, Ginny hurled the couch cushion at him, pouting when he caught it effortlessly. "You're a sport, Gin." Harry smiled, squeezing her shoulder, gently and then stood up, stretching.

"Dinner anyone?" Ron brightened up. "Yes, mate, please." He bounded into the kitchen after Harry, Hermione and Ginny following behind him, rolling their eyes.

_In times like those, times when it was just the four of us, I thought maybe, I could be happy as well. Happy in, of course, extremely oblique terms…It didn't matter though, if I couldn't be happy, I could still be content. Ginny complemented me in all ways that mattered. I did not have any grand plans in place. Why worry about crossing a bridge you couldn't even see as yet? All I really wanted at that point in time was to have someone to come home to, to have someone waiting at the other side of the door when I stood before it after a long day at work. _

_I figured, if it made everyone happy, it didn't really matter to me if that someone was Ginny…_

"Where are you, Harry?" Hermione asked him, taking his hand gently. He glanced up, forced a smile on for her benefit and squeezed her hand. "I'm right here, 'Mione." He retorted, faking confusion. She glanced at him knowingly. "You can fool everyone around you, Harry." He opened his mouth to protest. "But you'll never fool me… or Ron for that matter." He glanced down at the table.

"You're not really invested in this wedding, are you?" Blindly, he shook his head. "I figured as much." He kept shaking his head. She watched him quietly. "Then why are you going through with this, Harry?" He looked up at her, then, his eyes pained. "I have to 'Mione." He said, quietly. "The Weasleys want me to marry Ginny." Hermione leaned forward, speaking fiercely. "What about what you want, Harry?"

He looked away, mutinously. "I don't have anyone else in mind, Hermione. You know that."

"Yes, Harry, but what if you fall in love after you marry Ginny?" He glanced back at her. "What then?" He shook his head, stubbornly. "I'll ignore it and it will go away." Hermione shook her head, irritated. "It's not that simple, Harry." She tried to reason with him, uncharacteristically ignoring Harry's mulish nature. Once he dug his foot in, it would take eons of extremely hard work to get him to budge. "Even Ron can see that you are being a shade of enthusiastic too less about _your_ wedding."

"It would break Ginny if I backed out of this, now." He asserted, standing up, like it was the one argument that would solve all the problems in the world. "Let me make a move, alright? I've got to head to Madam Malkins for robe fitting before I get back to work." She sighed and caught his arm as he made to rush out, "Think about it for Merlin's sake, Harry." she pleaded. He bent down and kissed her cheek, reassuringly. "I will, 'Mione, I promise."

She watched him go, sadly. "Regardless, you will do exactly what's right for everyone and sacrifice all that _you_ want from life, won't you, Harry, love?" she murmured to herself.

_And so everything was moving the way it was supposed to. If sometimes, late at night, I found myself wandering through the hallways unable to sleep, then it was only because of stress at work and had nothing absolutely to do with the fact that I was practically signing my life away. If I found myself mooning over my parent's photo album, it was only because, some part of me missed them; though being without them came to me as easily as breathing; and not because I felt as if I had missed out on something big…._

_Weasley family reunions became increasingly more frequent. I had never quite seen Mrs. Weasley as excited as she bustled around arranging for this and that. Ginny had taken to smiling shyly and leaving the room whenever I entered and the twins had taken to calling me 'Ickle Harrikins'as they claimed that now, I was quite permanently and irrevocably part of the family and as honorary brothers, it was their duty to make my life as miserable as possible. _

_I had to leave the room, to evade the sick and disturbed feeling that pulled at my gut, quite fiercely and suddenly. But I reiterate; rolling with the circumstances is something that I've been doing since birth. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. _

Harry walked quickly, his hands clutching a couple of hundreds of wedding planners that had come through the post, ordered by his fiancée he supposed. He made his way, winding around the million or so people at Diagon Alley into Madam Malkins to pick up his robes. She glanced up from her work-station when he walked in. "Ah, Mr. Potter, you're right on time. Step lightly." She gestured to the back of the boutique, reaching over to a rail and picking off his robes from the rack.

Smiling uneasily, he took his robes from her hand and made his way into the dressing rooms.

"Harry, we're here." Ron called, pushing open the door and letting Hermione go in before him. Harry nodded, gratefully, and gestured to the robes in his arms. "Right." Ron nodded. "Yell if you need us, mate." Grinning, Harry flashed him a thumbs-up.

The robes were exquisite, bordering almost on flamboyant and Harry groaned, resting his head against the full-length mirror and resisting the urge to bang his head repeatedly on it. It was a shiny emerald green that made his eyes glow almost ethereally and was cinched up tight over his broad shoulders, pinching him and making him feel squeamish. The material was of a thick, heavy silk and Harry was sure if he did not die of the embarrassment, the stifling heat that he felt cloaked in would kill him. Which berk was responsible for choosing the color and texture of his robes anyway?

"That would be Ginny, mate." Ron said, sympathetically, even as his lips pulled into a grin.

"Well, whatever." He handed the robes back to Madam Malkin and enquired after the price. He had pretty much accepted everything else, what big difference did the robes make? Hermione took the robes from the seamstress's hand as she held it out and made her way outside with Ron to wait for Harry.

He walked out of the dingy shop into the bright sunlight and blinked as the sun reflected harshly off something bright on his left. Curiously, he glanced over and caught a glimpse of silver-blonde hair. Without pausing to think, he took off after the man. Ron glanced up in time to see Harry fleeing after someone and shouted for him.

He did not receive any kind of reply.

Malfoy paused at the apparition point and just before he apparated; he caught sight of Harry as he came skidding to a stop, pushed along and out of the crowd. His lips stretched into a slight smile, no malice or derision whatsoever and he disappeared with a crack, leaving Harry feeling stumped and rather down, as if he had been given something fleeting and precious and hadn't been able to understand what it had been in time.

But, of course, how ridiculous was that?

_She wanted a binding ceremony after the actual wedding. I had chocked for a moment, a binding? A binding implied binding of my magic and hers for life. Sometimes, if done correctly, it could even carry into death. I had been responsible for the entire wizarding world even before my voice had broken. I didn't want to be responsible for anyone anymore. But she said, "Please, Harry, after this, it will be just you and me forever." And of course, tired and just plain miserable, I had nodded. "Ginny, just let me think about this, okay?" _

'_Mione had been frothing mad….. _

"Tell him, Ron." She yelled, pointing at Harry. Ron put a bracing hand on Harry's shoulder. "All you need to do is tell her no, mate." Ron chided, hurting for his friend. Harry looked up at Ron. "Hang on, you are serious about this." He whispered harshly, surprised. Ron nodded.

"Yes, I am. Ginny is my sister, but you are my best mate. I want you to be happy, you git." He stood and paced, "Why are you doing this if you don't want to, Harry?" Harry shook his head. "It's what they want." Ron's eyes softened. "How can either one of you be happy in a marriage like this?"

"Harry, I understand your compulsion. But believe me, mate, no one is going to alienate you if you don't go through with this." Harry raised his eyes to Ron's, surprised by his insight. Hermione smiled fondly at her husband. For a moment, Harry smiled, bitterly, at the ease of affection between them. "You are part of the family, Harry, whether you want to be or not." Ron grinned, easily. "Whether or not you marry Ginny is not going to change your position of honorary brother." He winked, "Not for the twins, at least." Harry flashed him a weak smile.

Ron knelt and looked piercingly at Harry. "Look, Harry, when you guys announced that you were getting married, there was not one person happier than me." Harry opened his mouth to protest. Ron held up his hand. "Because- hear me out, mate- because there is not one person I trust in the world more than you. And because of that, there is no one I would rather entrust Ginny to."

He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "But, you just don't throw your life away like that, you _wanker_. What are you, mental?" He scoffed.

Harry glared. Hermione giggled, "That's not very nice, Ronald." She scolded, laughingly.

_And just like that, it felt like maybe, just maybe, I had gotten a little control over my life. Knowing that there was someone to back me when all things went wrong, people who would stick by me and not run to the other side when I made a mistake, was a wonderful feeling to have. Yes, I have been aware of it from the start, but rather fleetingly. _

_So when Ron and Hermione stood by my side, solid support and everything that I could ask- even though Ginny and I were technically on the same side anyway-it felt like suddenly, I had been empowered, like I had been shown the light after years of wandering around in the dark. One could almost say that I had found the gold at the end of the rainbow. Later I realized, if I was so over the moon by the support of my best friends, which most people would expect anyway, no questions asked, I must have a pretty pathetic excuse for a wish list. And that rather made me angry and all sorts of depressed. _

_I refused the binding the very next day..._

"But, Harry, why would you refuse now?" She pleaded, eyes wet and lips set in a wounded pout. "I thought we had agreed on this." None of the other Weasleys spoke, though all were present and accounted for, even the ones who were Weasleys by marriage. "No, Ginny, I told you I would think about it." Harry said, fighting a headache, his fingers massaging his forehead. "You were the one who just went all out and assumed."

"Does this mean you don't want to spend the rest of your life with me?" she retorted, her voice low, anger simmering low in her gut. She had always been quick to temper and it had never really worked well for her, either. "I'm marrying you, aren't I?" Harry snapped, tired of all the drama. All he had wanted to do after work was grab a cup of whiskey and spent the evening gazing pensively into the fire, cursing the woeful insidiousness of his miserable existence.

"Are you sure you want to?" she asked, her hands clenching around her wand, glaring. Harry frowned. "Look, I'm not going to talk about this like this. When you've calmed down enough to discuss this with me like an adult, floo me." He punctured his statement with a sharp jab towards the fireplace in the room. "Then, we'll talk."

He grabbed his coat off the rack and nodded farewell to the Weasleys.

He looked to Ginny, his eyes piercing in their intensity. "I'm not willing to go through with a binding, just so you are completely aware." The Weasleys watched Harry's leonine strides in awe. This was the wizard who Voldemort had feared. This was the wizard who had won against the darkest wizard of their times, the one whom even Dumbledore had only been able to subdue temporarily. This was the Harry Potter who fought the dark side of magic every single day. "I'm not done with you, Harry Potter." Ginny yelled. He turned back and sneered- almost a perfect replication of Malfoy's, though he was not aware of it- and snarled, his voice almost snake-like in tones and sibilant, "Well, tough." And he swept out of the door.

_Every person has a limit. Stretched or exploited over that, the thread would snap. It was not some complex rune that only Hermione would be able to solve. It was common sense, rather. I had a pretty big threshold for patience and in my credit, I had held on this whole time._

_She had pulled at the thread, without relenting since the time I had first seen her. It would make sense, wouldn't it, that her end of the thread would be the first to snap? She could drag me through this mess of a ceremony and keep me chained to her all of this life, but binding my magic to her? That's where any sane person would draw the line. _

"Take the week off, Potter." Harry looked up from the case-file, surprised. Kingsley stood in the doorway of his tiny cubicle, hands folded across his broad chest. "Excuse me, what?" Kingsley sighed and moved into the little room. "I haven't seen you this ragged and ready to drop since the week before the final battle, Potter." He gestured to the mountainous pile of paperwork. "You are known to be a slacker where paper-work is concerned, but I don't think I have seen you this behind before."

Harry frowned, tiredly.

"Doesn't that mean I should stay extra time or something?" Kingsley shook his head. "No, go on, Finnegan will handle the paperwork." He turned to go. Then he paused and turned back. "You are highly overdue for a vacation, anyways. So, take the next two weeks off, come back rested." He stared at Harry piercingly. "You will be worked twice as hard when you get back, of course." Harry shook his head, scowling. "I don't want a vacation."

"It's an order, Potter. I want you out of the office by noon today." And that said, Kingsley swept out of the cubicle. Seamus glanced over at Harry from his end of the little room and flashed Harry a smile and thumbs-up. Harry dropped his head, soundly, on the table and mumbled, "Ouch."

He was out of the office an hour before noon, his wand in his back-pocket and coat clutched in his arm, looking like he had battled a Hungarian Horntail in a storm. The sun's rays caressed the back of his neck and the length of his back as he bent over to tie his undone shoe-laces. A flash of gold caught his eyes again and he looked up, eagerly.

Malfoy sat at the table in the café opposite to the headquarters of the Auror Division, just beside the two way glass window. There was a newspaper clutched in one hand and a cup in the other. His eyes scanned the paper ardently and occasionally, he raised the cup and took a sip of whatever was in it.

Harry stared, still bent over, one hand on his shoe-laces. Feeling uncomfortable and realizing that he was still hunched over; he raised himself upright and leaned casually against one of the supporting pillars outside the building.

Malfoy still looked the same, yet there was something so very different. Harry's eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge the changes in his once school-yard nemesis. The lines and angles of his face were a lot softer, he mused. It had to be the sneer.

Before, Malfoy had always looked like there was something unpleasant taped to the underside of his nose. Now, he looked….nicer, perhaps? No, Harry thought, Malfoy looked more approachable, more down-to-earth, and more humble? No, that was not the word he was looking for. Then what? He continued watching Malfoy carefully, uncaring that if noticed, he might look like some kind of stalker.

But a scant moment later, Malfoy lowered his paper and looked across the road. His eyes immediately spotted Harry. His eyebrow rose slowly and he frowned. Then, as if reconsidering, his lips slipped into a slight smirk as he watched Harry as Harry had been watching him, his eyes carefully assessing, but not unappreciative.

Harry fought to control the hue of red that wanted to smear his cheeks. Reflexively, he nodded in greeting to the man. Unexpectedly, Malfoy nodded back, smirk widening. Okay, Harry admitted to himself, begrudgingly, the git did look a lot more pleasant that he had the last time Harry had seen him, more than fleetingly or from a distance.

Turning on his heels, he made his way to the apparition point, to head back home. Maybe today, he would actually be able to catch the rain-check on the whiskey.

_A few sightings of blonde hair was all it took to get me learn how to dream. When I first began to think of blonde hair and the sly, not entirely unattractive smirk, at times when there was no need to think about them at all, fear was what gripped me first. I wondered if my dreams were treading into dangerous territory. Then I took a step back and realized that perhaps before, I had never really been a dreamer at all. _

_Maybe, this was the kind of stuff that dreams were made of….._


	2. Sense of Sound

**Title: **Senses

**Disclaimer:** I am only writing for fun. Absolutely no profit involved, cross my heart.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Summary: **All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

**Author's notes: **Do enjoy and please drop me a few reviews so that I can enjoy as well. I wouldn't mind a little feedback, honest. *crosses heart*.

**Senses:**

**Sense of sound **

_When it first started, the apparition of Malfoy in my dreams was always silent. He came to me in many capacities, tormentor, nemesis, enemy, protector; coach (Imagine, Malfoy, coaching me in Quidditch!) and increasingly frequently, friend. _

_But no matter how he came, even though he spoke, his lips always moved, forming words, yet my dreams were always silent; extremely colorful and highly charged with emotion, but silent. Completely, absolutely silent, like watching the reruns of old movies on mute…._

"Master Harry Potter is to be getting up now." Harry shot awake, glaring through bleary eyes at the tiny elf near the hearth. The elf had an extremely creepy habit of disappearing and appearing at the most odd times. Harry often wondered where Kreacher went when he did not hang around Grimmauld Place.

He let his head drop back on the downy pillow and pulled the duvet over his head. "It's a Saturday" He mumbled into the pillow. "Master Harry Potter is not to be getting up any time soon." With a snap of Elvin fingers, the duvet was suddenly raised off the warming body and into the air. Harry immediately curled into himself, groaning. The duvet folded itself neatly into a square at the bottom of the bed. "Master Harry Potter is to be getting up now." The elf repeated, in a disturbing monotone. "Why, Kreacher, why?" Harry moaned, burrowing deeper into the soft pillow.

The elf sneered. "Miss Weasley is wanting to see Master Harry Potter." Harry groaned, louder. Kreacher's eyes gleamed. "Should Kreacher be letting Miss Weasley know that Master Harry Potter not being available for the rest of his life?" Harry chuckled, sorely tempted to bid the little elf to do just that. "No, I'm up. Thanks, Kreacher."

The elf shrugged, as if saying, _your loss_. "Breakfast is being ready, if Master Potter will take it now." Harry crawled out of bed, sighing. "Yes, I'll take it; give me a few minutes to take a shower." He meandered into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Kreacher apparated back into the kitchen and mourned his Master Regulus's death, clutching the medallion hung around his scrawny neck.

_Another yelling match was not something I was looking forward to. But something told me that I didn't really have a choice. She was bound to conceive every humanly possible method of convincing me to accept the binding. I only hoped that my penchant for peace and normality wouldn't drive me to agree with her. _

_Because, my magic? It was the one thing keeping me sane._

"Hey guys." The moment he walked in, Ginny tensed. He smiled at her, hesitantly, a peace offering of sorts. Unable to help it, she smiled back, rather stiffly. "Hello Harry." Hermione walked into the room, smiling warmly and pulled him into a hug. He embraced her back, his smile becoming warmer, more genuine. "Hey, mate." Ron pulled him out of Hermione's arms and held Harry close to him for a moment. "Be firm, Harry." He whispered, as he pulled away with a beaming smile, his eyes serious.

Harry smiled, genuinely grateful for the support of his friends.

He turned to face Ginny, his smile sliding off his lips, his eyes intense. "Are you ready to talk about this without yelling, Ginny?" She took a deep breath and sat down on the couch. "I don't think you should treat me like this, Harry." She said, her voice quivering. Hermione pushed Ron out of the room, into the kitchen, whispering to him, furiously.

Harry frowned. "I beg your pardon?" His voice was rather incredulous. She stood, gripped his arms, gently and looked up at him, beseechingly. "What haven't I done for you, Harry?" She asked him. "I've loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you." He stood stiffly under her grip. "I am ready to sign away my life and my magic for you in a moment because I don't believe anything is more important in the world than you, Harry." She let him go and turned to face the flames leaping and playing in the hearth.

"Don't I deserve the same in return?"

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to answer. The flames leapt to life, sending Ginny a few feet back and crashing into Harry. "Hermione?" A head appeared in the flames. "Hermione, I need you." The head keened; the voice husky, lilting and filled with mirth. Hermione and Ron made their way into the sitting-room, Ron mock-glaring at the head in the flames. "Get your own girl, Malfoy." He put his arms around a chuckling Hermione. "'Mione's mine." Malfoy sneered, looking for a moment like the perpetually sneering childhood version of himself.

"If I could, or thought it was humanly possible, I would have convinced 'Mione to run away with me ages ago, Weasel." He grinned charmingly and turned to look at Hermione. "Isn't that right, doll?" He leered. "You still have time, you know. Leave Weasel now, let me show you the time of your life." He winked at Ron, who chuckled. Hermione laughed and pushing away a stunned Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley away from the carpet, she knelt at the hearth. Malfoy glanced to Harry and Ginny. "Potter, Weasley." He nodded, cordially and then turned back to Hermione.

Harry glanced to Ron, betrayal clearly written in his eyes. Ron raised an arm, grinning. "It's not what it looks like, mate."

_Can you possibly understand how bitter I felt when I learned that 'Mione and Ron had been friends with Malfoy for almost an entire year? And that- forget being friends with him, I would, given the opportunity to put things behind us, do exactly that- they had kept that from me for as long as an entire year was just plain depressing. _

_Immediately after that particular incident, I had left, not in the mood for explanations, tears or tribulations. I was bone-achingly tired for some reason, and though I've often wondered why it was that I was so lost, I have never found the answer. Maybe, it was a culmination of all frustrations of a long long time. Everything that I had associated with normal and safe, safe and perhaps a little happy was slipping through my fingers like sand and I really wasn't doing anything to stop it. _

_There was fear along with the feeling of freedom. What if I lost everything that I had valued in just one go? I figured I'd never be able to heal. Then I stopped and wondered why I was being so dramatic. I wasn't angry with Hermione and Ron. They were allowed to keep secrets from me. It was not like I was their keeper. I was just a friend, who had saved their arses on numerous occasions and who had no secrets from them. Why on earth did they have to keep me abreast of important events in their life? Besides it was not even all that important a piece of news anyway. They had __**only**__ befriended the singularly most annoying person in the world and the one person who had made my life- and theirs- more miserable than Voldemort ever had. Nah, not all that important at all. _

_Okay, so maybe, I was a little more miffed with them than I had realized. _

"It was not like that, Harry." Hermione said, patiently to a pouting Harry Potter. Ron nodded, ardently. "It just sort of happened, mate." Harry raised his hand. "Yeah, I bloody get that, you git." He glared at Ron. "What I don't get is why you didn't think to tell me about it." He included both of them in his tirade now. "What I don't get is why you thought it a good idea to keep this from me for nearly an entire year."

"I mean," He stopped and looked at them hopefully. "I'm an approachable guy, aren't I?"

"Of course you are, Harry." Hermione said, exasperated. "This isn't about you, at all." She took her hand in his. "We figured, maybe, with history like yours and Draco's we'd give it a little time." He looked up, then. Hermione continued. "You are bound to run into him at some point, anyway, what with him being as much a public figure as you now and all." She shrugged. "A friendship was inevitable, we thought we'd let it happen at your pace."

"Why is a friendship inevitable?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

Ron laughed. "Have you seen the bloke, now, Harry? He's singularly the most entertaining guy since the twins. It's very pleasant to be around him." Harry looked at Ron in open bemusement. "Draco kind of reminds me of you, actually." Ron admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Hermione chuckled. "Ron is very … taken with him." Ron went red and Harry grinned. "Really, now? Tell me all about it, mate."

And just like that, things were back to normal.

_It didn't seem to come out of the blue or anything, my relationship with Malfoy. All events that had taken place since our first meeting was a slow culmination and leading eventually to a deeper relationship on so many levels that it left me feeling completely fulfilled, drained even as in the beginning I tried so hard to keep parts of me hidden from him. _

_But like Ron had said, Malfoy had changed, there was no escaping that. _

He pulled his cloak closer to him and quickened his strides. The wind whistled around him and the temperature dropped a few degrees even as he made his way to The Leaky Cauldron. He pushed the door open and stood still for a moment, absorbing the warmth of the airy little room, renovated after the war, and raised his hand to Tom, the barkeep.

Tom grinned, missing teeth and all, "Harry Potter." He called. All eyes in the little restaurant swung to face him. Cursing the barkeeper under his breath, he smiled sheepishly at the crowd, his eyes lighting up when Hermione waved to him from the booth at the left-most corner.

He slid into the booth, grinning happily. "Hey guys." His eyes passed over Hermione, Ron next to her and then to the blonde slumped into the seat at the corner of the booth. "Malfoy?" He asked, rather uncertainly. Malfoy smiled, almost gently. "It's Draco, actually." He corrected the husking lilt of his voice so very different from the condescending tone he was used to. "Um…you should call me simply Harry, then." Harry said, his cheeks tinted pink for reasons he could not even begin to fathom.

Draco slid forward on his seat and glanced into Harry's eyes, his own open only a slit. Though Harry could not see the color of his eyes, he had the exact shade memorized- _gunmetal grey, storm clouds in monsoon, mercury, a turbulent silver pulling you in like quicksand till you stopped struggling and found pleasure in drowning- _"Well then, Simply Harry," He said, teasingly, "it's a pleasure." He rolled the r sound, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Lay off, you ponce." Ron grumbled good-naturedly from beside him. "Harry does not bat for your team, do you, mate?" "T-team? What team, Ron?" "I'm gay, Potter." Draco said, grinning wolfishly. "Did you not know that?" He looked genuinely surprised when Harry frowned. He settled back into his seat, shrugging. "I thought everybody did." Harry suddenly felt a wave of resentment.

"I never had much of a chance to be involved in ideal gossip now, did I, Malfoy?" Harry asked, bitterly, raising an eyebrow at the blonde. "Since your daddy and his mates wanted to play head hockey with my head and I was fucking busy trying to keep it attached to my shoulders." Draco's lips curved up in a parody of a smile and his eyes closed off, like somebody had thrown drapes over them. Harry immediately felt a sting of guilt. Hermione's indignant "Harry!" went unheard. "I never did apologize, did I, Hero?" Malfoy's voice was too light to be considered prudent.

"I am very sorry, for the things that I did and didn't do, but thought of doing." His eyes bore into Harry's, their intensity making Harry feel uncomfortably hot in his own skin. "And from the bottom of my heart, Potter, I thank you for saving my life and keeping my mother and me out of Azkaban."

That said, he stood, grabbing his outer robes from the back of the chair where it was hung and smiled, a ghost of his previously blinding smiles, at Hermione and Ron. "I'll catch you guys later." He promised. When he turned to Harry, his face was blank. "See you around, Potter." He left without a second glance backward.

_It was a bad start, and like Hermione told me, Malfoy was handling it with so much more grace and poise than I was. I decided that I would apologize, just to show Hermione and Ron that I was as mature as he was and that I could move on too. _

_It didn't strike me until much much later that I was showing more spirit than I had in simply ages. Malfoy just brought out my fire in ways that I just cannot explain. But I reiterate, I didn't realize that until much later. _

"Can Blinky be helping, Sir?" This elf looked much more well-put-together than Kreacher, was Harry's first thought. He scowled, imagining Malfoy's reply if he told him that. He imagined the sneer that would pull at the supple, pouty lips and the superior look in his eyes. He could almost hear the pompous tone as the blonde told him, "_Of course, Potter, how plebian of you to even compare your house-elf to mine." _

He put the thought away and smiled kindly at the elf, "Yes, please, I would like to see Draco Malfoy, if he could come to the floo." The elf nodded and disappeared and Harry wondered if he was being too polite. He shook his head, what did it matter? He would request an audience, apologize and be done with it.

"Simply Harry!" Malfoy's lilting voice called out as his attractive smirking face appeared in the flames. "Good Evening, I knew you couldn't resist my charms." Harry peered into his eyes and they were a clear, calm grey, with a weary glint in them. Harry sat back, filled with self-righteous satisfaction. So Malfoy wasn't as fruity as he always pretended to be it seemed. "What's wrong, Malfoy?" Harry asked, trying to sound sympathetic, flailing and sounding smug instead. "Did I catch you at a bad time? Were you getting ready to go out and steal candy off babies?"

Malfoy's smirk slid slowly off his face. He raised an arm and pressed at his forehead. "Merlin knows I have tried to be civil with you, Potter." He snarled. "Is that all? Or do you have something more hurtful to say?" Harry sat back, feeling guilty and rather ashamed of himself. What was wrong with him? Why was he unnecessarily picking on Malfoy?

"Malfoy, I..." He paused, uncertain. Malfoy growled, sending the embers flying around him. "Damn it, I said I was sorry, Potter. I was a kid, okay? Children make mistakes." He stopped and stared intently at Harry. "I am not justifying myself, because I realize you were a kid too. But I am saying sorry, aren't I?"

Harry smiled, suddenly. "I was going to ask if I could come through, actually." Malfoy looked taken-aback for a moment and then he nodded, shortly. His head disappeared from the flames. Harry took a deep breath and stepped into the flames, calling out, "Malfoy Manor." He tumbled out of the huge marble fireplace into a study, tripping over his own feet and just stopping himself from a free-fall and a face plant on the plush cream carpet.

He glanced up at the git to see if he was laughing at Harry's innate clumsiness, but Draco was wearing a soft, almost, _dare he think it?, _fond smile. Harry dusted himself off and stood, trying to smile. He wondered if it came out more as a grimace.

"Well, well, would you look at that?" The drawling voice pulled something at his gut. "Haven't changed much at all, Potter, except maybe, your undernourished body decided to give you a few inches." He glanced up at the sneering portrait, almost happily. "Professor Snape, it has been long I must say." He smirked, rather fondly. "I dare say you look much better than you did."

"I'm dead and a portrait, Potter, you imbecile." Snape said, dryly. Malfoy snorted by Harry's side. "Yes, that's what I said, a definite improvement." Harry said cheekily, ignoring the insult. "You would think that you insolent…" "That's enough, Severus. You know you look like you've always looked, I made sure of it." Draco said, coaxingly to the man in the portrait. "Don't antagonize my Godfather, Potter." He told Harry, almost tiredly. He gestured to an armchair. "Make yourself at home." Harry shook his head, stubbornly. "I'm not talking to you in front of the snarky git." Snape's portrait bristled. "Who are you calling snarky, you impertinent brat?"

"Hush, Sev." Malfoy said, almost pleadingly to the portrait and then turned to Harry, frowning. "What have you got against Severus?" Harry opened his mouth to answer when Malfoy waved his hand, absently. "Doesn't matter, just…" He paused, his eyes looking very near jaded. "This way, then." He led the way out of the study, Snape's hostile gaze on Harry's back.

He led the way into a sitting-room of sorts, formal and stiff and went straight to the liquor cabinet affixed high on the far wall. He raised his wand and two tall snifters flew through the air into his outstretched fingers. He turned to face Harry, an eyebrow raised questioningly, as he saw Harry fidgeting by the door. "For Merlin's sake, Potter." He pointed at the only chair in the room that looked remotely comfortable, a leather high-backed chair placed next to the hearth where a fire blazed. "Sit." He waited till Harry had taken the offered seat.

Then he held up the snifter. "Firewhiskey or Ogden's?" He paused and smirked. "Or would you rather a Butterbeer?"

Harry glared. "Firewhiskey, thanks Malfoy." He said, his chin jutting out, defiantly. Chuckling, Malfoy poured the drinks and handed Harry his drink. "I hope you don't mind, I needed something stronger for this conversation." He said, apologetically, holding out his Ogden's. Harry's eyes softened, as he regarded Malfoy over the rim of his glass.

Throwing back his head, Malfoy drained the contents of his glass in one go. Harry watched his pale throat working the liquid and gulped, discreetly. Then he frowned and took a sip of his drink. "So, Potter." Malfoy sat back on his own chair opposite to Harry's and raised an eyebrow, invitingly. "Huh?" Harry gazed back, confused. Malfoy made a jabbing motion with his hand. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"Oh, right." He paused, briefly as if gathering the energy and the courage from somewhere and raised his head, staring directly into Malfoy's eyes. "I am sorry." He said, abruptly, yet it seemed extremely sincere. Malfoy's expression told Harry that an apology was not something he had expected at all. "What?" He blurted and amused, Harry repeated his apology.

"Oh, I…what for, Potter?" _A floundering Malfoy_, Harry's lips stretched into a grin, _who would have thought the day, would ever come? _

"I behaved like a git the other day." Harry admitted, sheepishly. "You gave me absolutely no reason to bring it up, Malfoy." He sighed. "It's in the past and should remain there. It's going to be forgotten, I promise." Malfoy smiled, rather sadly. "Oh but it's never going to be forgotten just like that, Potter. Or ever, actually." He stood, and pointed his wand at his glass and it filled. "That's not true, Malfoy and you know that." Harry said, defiantly.

"Isn't it?" He turned back to look at Harry and his gaze was piercing and extremely intense, angry. Harry shifted in the chair, unnerved. "Isn't it, Potter?" Without warning, Malfoy turned and flung his glass. It soared through the air and crashed into the hearth, the flames leaping and spitting as the alcohol trickled though the logs. Harry jumped and tried to stay put and appear calm, even as his heart was thudding in his chest. His hand tightened around his wand in his robe pocket. He was more aware than anyone else that Malfoy could be dangerous when he wanted to be.

Malfoy's keen senses noted the movement of Harry's hand, distressed though he was and he turned smoldering grey eyes to him. "Scared, Potter?" He wondered out loud, his lips curling at the irony. Wondering at the sudden giddiness blooming in his chest, Harry chuckled, although there was absolutely no reason for it. A scant few moments later, Malfoy's throaty laughter joined his own. They laughed for long moments, both tickled by the small quirk of fate. When their mirth subsided, Harry stated firmly into the silence of the room. "You wish, Malfoy." His eyes were challenging.

Malfoy smiled, beautifully.

_That entire week, I remember, I went around smiling. I recall Ron commenting jokingly that the situation with Ginny might have driven me barmy. I remember Hermione's introspective glances when she thought I wasn't looking. When I turned to look at her, she would smile that me in that smug way of hers, the same smile that she wore when you didn't know something that she did. _

_I kept putting off the inevitable blow-up with Ginny, it was just instinct that told me it wouldn't end well and I had learned to listen to instinctual warnings. She flooed me every few hours or so, asking, demanding, begging to meet with me so that she could get some closure over this bonding strife and it annoyed Kreacher intensely. _

_But I wasn't even so sure I wanted to go through the wedding anymore, leave alone a bonding. _

Harry was bored. Vacation was simply torture for him as it was some sort of compulsion to remain on the move. He twirled his wand around his fingers, watching some soap on the television. It was muted and he could hear Kreacher mumbling away in the kitchen. He contemplated going into the kitchen, sitting down at the table and conversing with the elf and then laughed. Sad when the day came that one had nothing better to do but hold one-sided conversations with a house-elf who hated your guts.

Harry paused to consider that thought. Kreacher didn't hate him, he decided. He hadn't poisoned his food till now and he did keep the house clean and the laundry folded. He treated Harry's friends semi-politely and never addressed Hermione's as 'Mudblood', but in his mind perhaps. No, Kreacher didn't hate him, just disliked him, but not enough to cause him any serious harm, maybe; he hoped.

The flames leapt to life in the kitchen. Harry remained put, someone was at the floo, and Kreacher would attend it. A whispered conversation floated out of the room. Harry listened with one ear and caught a snatch of words, but he did not comprehend them as his mind was otherwise occupied. Kreacher apparated directly in front of him and Harry regarded him with something akin to boredom with half-lidded eyes.

Kreacher's voice was high and excited as he announced, "Master Malfoy is being requesting Master Harry Potter's presence at the floo." A smile spread unbidden over his lips and he tried to pretend not to be as happy as Kreacher appeared to be. With deliberate slowness, he pulled himself off the couch. Kreacher beamed at him. "Kreacher being very happy that Master Harry Potter being making friends suited to Master's station." He applauded. Harry frowned at the presumptuous elf. "Master Malfoy is being very good company for Master Potter." Unwilling to let his mind agree with the elf, Harry quickened his steps into the kitchen.

"Malfoy." He let himself grin at the sight of the blonde head floating in flames and schooled his features into a neutral expression. Malfoy's lips curled. "Simply Harry." He greeted, almost pointedly. Harry could not help the smile that his lips bloomed into. "Draco" He amended. He knelt. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, I heard from a very reliable bushy-haired source that you are on vacation." Harry raised an eyebrow. He would have to speak to Hermione about spying on him for Malfoy. "Guess what? I'm off practice today and am bored. I know you're bored too, so I figured why not be bored together?" He paused, invitingly. "And you want to do, what?" Harry considered Malfoy's reasoning; he had a point. All his other friends were at work.

He paused.

And then wondered when he had started considering Malfoy as a friend. "We could meet for lunch?" Malfoy suggested. Harry shrugged. It couldn't hurt. "Sure, I'm game." Malfoy grinned. "Great, meet you at the Cauldron's?" Harry nodded. "Catch you later, then, Malfoy." But Malfoy's head had already disappeared from the flames.

_I will not admit on the pain of death that I spent nearly an hour wondering what to wear. And that's God's own truth. It was just lunch with Malfoy; I remember telling myself that countless times in that hour, why on earth are you so very worried about what to wear?_

_In the end, I almost drove myself barmy and decided on a pair of blue jeans and a shirt that didn't look like I was trying too hard. It was not like this was a date; I thought and then spent a few minutes feeling horrified at the direction of my thoughts. What were the words 'date' and 'Malfoy' even doing in the same thought process in my head? Even the thought of flooing Malfoy and letting him know I wasn't coming entered my head. But, I decided against that. _

_In the end, I remember leaving the house as the grandfather clock in the den struck noon._

Harry collided heavily with someone as he made a beeline for the Leaky Cauldron. "Merlin, I am so sorry." He raised his eyes to the man's. His eyes met Malfoy's laughing grey ones. "Same destination, I believe, Simply Harry?" He grinned, honestly. Harry grinned back, pleased to see the blonde. That nick-name, childish though it was tickled him for some reason. "Yeah." He mentally slapped himself. _Great comeback, Potter. _

But Draco smiled brightly and held open the door for Harry. Flushing and indignant- "I'm not a girl, Malfoy."- but charmed all the same, Harry walked into the restaurant before Malfoy. They sat at the same table they had used for the rendezvous with Hermione and Ron.

"So tell me, Malfoy, how come your friends with 'Mione and Ron?" Harry asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Malfoy looked up from his water glass, smiling gently. "It's Draco, Harry." He said, like he had quite a few times the past few days. Harry nodded, grinning. "Right, you can't distract me, Draco." He said, teasingly. "What gave you the idea that I was trying to evade the question?" Draco asked him, head thrown back, a slight sneer in place. Harry chuckled, fondly.

"Tell me, you git."

Draco leaned forward slightly, his face animated. "It was kind of an accident." He admitted, apparently highly amused by the incident. "I just got back from Bulgaria for the quidditch season after training and had gone to Gringotts to withdraw money for the duration of my stay in London-"

"Hang on, you're not staying?" Harry interrupted, feeling low for reason he did not want to explain.

Draco gaze sharpened. "Why, if I didn't know you any better I'd say you'd miss me, Simply Harry." He said, with a perfectly straight face. "No, of course not, Mal- Draco, I'm just asking." Harry retorted, hastily. Draco smiled, rather wistfully. "No Harry, I'm not staying." He said. "There is nothing for me here."

"That's not true." Harry said before he could stop himself. Draco lifted his water glass to his lips. "No?" He put the glass down and leaned on his palms with his elbow placed perpendicular to the table. "You have Ron and 'Mione and even me, Malfoy." Harry paused to let that sink in. "You have your team and your coach, right?" Draco shook his head, "My team and my coach will portkey back to Bulgaria once the season concludes." He confided. "I must go with them." He leaned back into his seat. "It's better that way, Potter."

"This place has too many memories, almost all of them bad. I would never be able to be truly happy here." His eyes were some place far away. "Bulgaria is my home now." He told Harry, gently. "I am not staying." He repeated, more for his benefit than Harry's.

Harry snorted, feeling unjustly jilted. "Just who are you trying to convince here, Malfoy?" He bit out. He didn't think it was fair that Malfoy got to run from his past and the rest of them didn't. Draco tensed. "Don't fucking start with me, Potter." He snarled, abruptly angry. What was with Potter always yanking at his chains? Why couldn't he do as he promised and leave the past in the past?

Harry felt unexpectedly, calmer than he had in ages. "What you're doing, Draco, is running away." He told him, quietly. "What you're doing is running away from everything that represented the first eighteen years of your life." Draco eyes were as turbulent as a stormy sky when he raised them to look at Harry. He saw Draco's hands tremble as he closed them into fists on the table. He moved to take them in his and then decided against it.

Harry let silence descend when he did not reply and waited as Draco lowered his head to the table.

"You have got to stop at some point, Draco." Harry said, after a little while, biting his lip harshly to keep from pulling the blonde into a hug when he started and looked up at Harry, his eyes wild like a deer's caught in headlights. "You can't run away forever."

"I can't." The blonde replied, suddenly, his voice haunted. "I can't stay here." He ran a hand through his hair absently. "Staying at the Manor is extremely disconcerting as well." He admitted. "But I decided I wouldn't let a madman's memory drive me out of my own home." A bit of the proud pureblood leaked through the chains Draco had put that part of his personality in and Harry smiled. "That's a start."

He smiled, gently; persuading. "Let me help you."

Draco shook his head. "No, thanks though." He smiled suddenly. "You wanted to hear about how Ron, 'Mione and I came to be, right?" He launched head-first into the narration of that tale. Harry listened indulgently, letting Draco change the subject; rather fascinated with the many many facets of the Malfoy Heir. He wanted to find more, he decided.

If all he had to do was find a reason to keep Draco in London, he would find it, come Hell or High Water.

_It was just fascination, I told myself, then. I was merely drawn in curiosity to another human-being who was similar to me, yet as different as the sun was from the moon. In the beginning that was all it was, a pet project of sorts. Something to keep me entertained during my so-called forced vacation. I wanted to find a reason for Malfoy to stay back, I wanted to help him get over the past. _

_Because it was kind of obvious to me that there were scars bleeding tirelessly behind his cheerful façade, the farce of his smile that no one but I had seen through. After I had decided that, all my dreams of him were audible. When he spoke, he spoke in a high lilting voice, as soft and seductive as a cool caress on warm skin. _

_I have never really wanted to wake up from those dreams….._


	3. Sense of Touch

**Title: **Senses

**Disclaimer:** I am only writing for fun. Absolutely no profit involved, cross my heart.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Summary: **All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

**Author's notes: **Please do enjoy and please, please drop me a few reviews, it'll take only a minute and very few words to make me smile. *Pouts so adorably that you can't resist clicking the review button* Please?

**Senses:**

**Sense of touch**

_Two days later, when I still had a week and four days of off-duty time left, I remember being ready to try and resurrect Voldemort to kill me. I had been feeling smothered, irritated, miserable and unappreciated. Malfoy wouldn't answer my floo-calls and Ginny had flooed relentlessly, sometimes so late into the night that I had been afraid I would become insomniac with the number of times she woke me up. _

_I remember, one of her floo-calls had come during one of my nightmares. I had woken up in cold sweat, Voldemort's cold laughter and my mother's pleading screams ringing in my ears, flashing green light swimming before my eyes; only to hear her arguing loud enough to wake the dead with Kreacher at the kitchen floo. Gathering all the anger that had built in me, coupled with the bone-achingly deep sorrow, and the frustration of the past week, I had stormed into the kitchen. _

"What the fuck is going on down here?" Harry bellowed, stomping into the kitchen, as if riding on the wings of a storm, his wand in his hand, his eyes blazing with an emerald-green fire. Kreacher glanced up at his master, looking equally frustrated. "She is not being quitting, Master Harry Potter. Kreacher is being angry enough to be killing." The elf complained.

"Move." Harry barked at the elf. Kreacher stepped to the side, smirking. That Miss Weasley was going to get it. Harry did not bother kneeling. He folded his arms across bare his chest and glared into the flames. His eyes were vivid in their intensity as he had neglected to wear his glasses. "Wait." He told her, stiffly, unable to focus. He held out his hand, palm forward. His glasses zoomed into his open palm. He had not needed to use verbal incantations in a long time. After placing them snugly over his nose, he turned the force of his glare back on the flames.

"Speak." He said.

"I need to talk with you, Harry." She said, her brows drawn together, angry. "Did you happen to cast a tempus charm before flooing me, Ginny?" He asked her, coldly. "It's urgent, Harry, you understand that, right?" He shook his head and knelt. "It's not something that cannot wait till morning." He told her firmly. "Go to sleep, Ginny." He added, his voice gentler.

"Please, Harry, it's just…" Her voice broke and she paused, trying to reign in the tears. Harry sighed, jadedly. "Do you want to come over?" He asked her, feeling rather sorry for her. She smiled, weakly. "Please, can I?" Harry nodded shortly and stood. The flames leapt to life and Harry turned to sneering elf. "Go to bed, Kreacher." He said, running a hand through his hair.

The elf glanced towards Ginny, who was just stepping out of the flames. "Is Master Harry Potter being okay without Kreacher?" Harry quelled the hysterical laughter bubbling up and nodded once, not trusting himself to speak. He would buy Kreacher a mitten or something soon, just to show gratitude for the elf being nicer to him than the people in his life.

He took a deep breath and turned to Ginny. She was in her pajamas, her hair all over the place and bags beneath her once vivid, dull blue eyes. Harry felt a momentary sting of guilt. He pointed to a chair at the dining table. "Sit down, Gin." He told her, softly. She obeyed, instinctually. He set a pot of coffee to brew for something to do with his hands. When it started bubbling, twitching and unable to take the tense silence anymore, he turned to his fiancée. She was wringing her hands where they were clasped on the table's surface.

"What happened to us Harry?" She asked him softly, head bowed. He shrugged, unable to find his voice. "I was so sure that you are it for me." She glanced up at him and he looked away, uncomfortable. "I am sure of it, still." She choked on a sob when Harry did not reply. "Why do I feel as if we are falling apart?" He glanced at her, helplessly. "Why do I feel as if I'm going to lose you?"

He sighed and walked over to her side. "Ginny, all I said was that I am not interested in a binding." She opened her mouth to protest. He continued, "Listen to me, imagine the consequences of binding your magic to another person. Just think for a moment of the restrictions that places on your magic, on your ability to protect yourself." He cupped her jaw, gently.

"I need all the help I can get at my job, you know." He argued softly. "It's not just you, Gin; I wouldn't want to be magically bound to anyone." She glanced into his eyes, understanding dawning in hers. "So it's not that you don't love me or want to marry me anymore?" She asked, unsurely. Harry sighed, painfully. _It's that too, yes,_ he wanted to say."No, it's not that." He said instead.

Smiling brightly, she angled her face up for a kiss and Harry complied, tiredly. He told himself it did not feel like kissing his sister. He argued that since he did not have a sister anyway, how would he know what it was like to kiss your sister?

She cupped his face and deepened the kiss, her tongue seeking out his, her lips moving over his urgently. Unconsciously, Harry raised his arms and threaded his fingers through her fiery strands of hair. The image of his tan fingers wound through soft silver-white hair came unbidden into his mind and he moaned softly. Then his eyes flew open and he broke the kiss, forcefully, gasping.

Ginny stared at him, dazed, her eyes unfocused. "Harry?"

He couldn't find it in himself to be flattered at how affected she was. "Must be the chicken-wings." Harry lied, convincingly. "I'm not feeling too well, Ginny." He waved her towards the fireplace. "I'll see you soon, yeah?" She nodded; eyes still bright. She kissed his cheek, tenderly. "I'll see you soon, Harry" She promised and left in a burst of flames. The bubbling pot let out a shrill whistle and Harry waved his wand at it, absently, silencing it and dousing the flames.

He staggered into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. "Fuck." He murmured, hoarsely, his hands tightening around his pillow.

_I recall taking that little fantasy, putting it into a trunk, padlocking it, locking it with multiple protection spells and flinging it deep into some unused pit at the bottom of the dark recesses in my mind. It was something I did not want to think about, I didn't have a problem with homosexuals apparently, but I was not one myself. _

_Hermione would scoff at that, I was sure. Different rules for different people, Potter? Her eyes would ask. And I would ignore it and blithely get on with my life, because a change so big is not one that I could make then, comfortably. It would mean the death of my life and my world as I knew it. I hadn't been ready for that. I didn't think, then, that I would ever be ready for it. _

"You agreed to the bonding, didn't you, mate?" Ron's disapproving frown was evident in his voice. Harry grinned, triumphantly, divesting his coat and moving into the hall. "Ah, but I did not." He assured. "Ginny sounded like you guys are already married and bonded when she flooed this morning, Harry." Hermione called from the kitchen. "What did you do to make her so happy?" Harry walked into the kitchen after Ron and jumped onto the counter, making himself at home in the large void between the bread-bin and the oven.

Hermione's kitchen was as much muggle as it was magic.

"She came over last night." He admitted. Two pairs of eyes swung to face him. "She was this close to crying and- and fuck.…" He ran a hand through his hair, torn. "This is Ginny we are talking about; I can't hurt her that way." Harry confessed. Hermione and Ron exchanged an exasperated look. "Why is it so hard for you to understand that you are hurting her more by leading her on?" Hermione chided. "You can marry her Harry and you can try to be happy with her, you may even accomplish that to some extent, but in the end this is not what you really want; and at some point in the future, you will blame her for ruining your life."

Ron stared belligerently at him. "Do you think she can handle that, mate?" Harry shook his head and looked out of the kitchen window. "I can't Ron, I just…" He paused, his eyes pained. "So don't, Simply Harry." Draco called as he walked into the kitchen, smiling. "If whatever it is that you're doing is making you unhappy, it's not worth doing it." Hermione nodded to Harry, silently agreeing with him. Harry shook his head in reply. Ron grinned at the blonde and changed the topic of conversation. "About time, mate." He said, clapping Draco on his back.

Draco pulled Hermione into a hug and leaned down to let her place a kiss on his cheek.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you why I am late." He said, chuckling. He wandered over to where Harry sat and hopped up on the marble counter beside him. Their shoulders and thighs brushed briefly and Harry tensed. Draco turned his head slightly to the side, "Am I making you uncomfortable, Harry?" He asked him, quietly. _Perhaps more than you should_, Harry admitted to himself. He flashed Draco a tense smile. "No, of course not." He forced himself to relax.

Draco looked at Ron and smiling, he explained. "I went to Flourish and Blotts a while ago. Speaking of which..." He dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out a shrunk parcel. He enlarged it and held it out to Hermione. "I found it." He announced. Hermione's expression turned worshipping as Ron rolled his eyes. "The first ever published copy of _Moste Potente Potions_?" Draco grinned. "Ten points to Gryffindor" She took it from his hands and put it reverently on the counter. Then she leaned over and kissed his cheek fondly. "Thank you." She whispered, gratefully.

Draco smiled, softly.

Then he turned to Ron and continued. "So I get the books that I want and am walking to the floo when this woman grabs at my arm. She's about this tall…" He gestured to his elbow and Ron snorted. Draco grinned and persisted, settling back against Harry, who kept up a chant in his mind to consciously keep his body relaxed "And she asks me…" He adopted a falsetto, his voice climbing several notches. "Aren't you the new Bulgarian seeker? And I nod and get mobbed." There was not a hint of pride in his voice, only amusement and Harry was pleasantly surprised. Hermione grinned and Ron laughed. "How the hell did you get out of there?" He asked the Malfoy Heir. "See that's the point, I splinched this girl holding on to my arm when I apparated into the Manor and I had to get her to St. Mungo's before coming here, which is why it took me so long."

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, rue the life of a celebrity." "In that case, you're forgiven, Malfoy." Ron said, good-naturedly, moving to try out the gravy on the spatula that Hermione was holding out. "Hmm.., a little more salt perhaps, love." He told her letting the flavor melt on his tongue. Using the break, Harry shoved Draco lightly with his shoulder and mumbled rather resentfully, "You should answer your floo sometimes, you know?"

Draco grinned at him, and from such close proximity it almost blinded him. The hair on the back of his neck and his arms stood up and he leaned closer, almost instinctually. Draco didn't move away. "I wasn't home the past two or so days, Simply Harry. I had to run back to Bulgaria on an errand." He raised his hands as it to cup Harry's face and then dropped it. "I certainly wouldn't _ignore_ a floo call from you." He promised, seriously.

Ron cleared his throat noisily. "Do we need to leave?" He teased. Harry moved back, as if electrocuted and hopped off the counter, hastily. "So what's for dinner, 'Mione?" He asked moving closer to her and peeking at the bubbling pot over her shoulder. He listened with half an ear as Ron and Draco discussed the final game of the quidditch season and practice strategies, his skin still feeling tingly and uncomfortably small for him.

"You should really just admit it, Harry." Hermione whispered to him, her eyes unnervingly severe. He looked up at her, startled, from the sauce that he was stirring. "Admit what?" The confusion in his voice told her that he honestly had no idea what she was talking about. She put the knife that she was using back on the cutting board and turned fully to face him. "Oh honey." She said and stopped for a moment, listening. Ron and Draco had moved on to other topics but they were still talking and paying absolutely no attention to Harry or Hermione.

"You honestly don't know, yet, do you?" She asked him, her eyes tender. He blinked. "What _are_ you talking about 'Mione?" He shook his head, dismissing it as one of her many eccentricities and turned back to stirring the sauce. Hermione smiled slightly, "When you figure it out, Harry, let me know." She said, more to herself than to him. He ignored her.

_Fact of the matter was, perhaps, I had known, at least subconsciously what she was talking about. I just chose to ignore it and ignore it completely. In actual fact, I tried to erase all thought of it so completely that if anyone were looking from outside they wouldn't be able to point and say, "Oops, you missed a spot, Harry." _

_But the thought was like a cold. No matter how well you recover from it, it keeps coming back. It reached a stage from when I barely remembered there was a person named Malfoy to thinking about him every alternate minute. And it was especially horrible because I still had ten days of vacations left and nothing productive or very distracting to do. _

_I remembered even asking Hermione's opinion about travelling out of England. A five day retreat or so. She had frowned at me disapprovingly. "Come off it, Harry. Even you can't be that desperate." She had smiled, fondly. "This is what happens when you're married to your job." She had waved her hand, casually. "Get out, see more people, live a little." _

_Then she had smiled creepily. "Go watch the Bulgarians practice." I had shaken my head, horrified and maybe a little apprehensive of thoughts of Malfoy. But I had gone to see them practice the next day anyway._

Draco's smile when he spotted Harry on the stands could have powered a mini-city for a whole year. Harry smiled back, munching on his chocolate frog. Draco held up one of his glove-clad fingers at Harry and turned his broom and guided it fluidly towards the Bulgarian captain. Harry admitted to himself that Ginny might have been right. Draco seemed like he was more at ease in the air than he was on the ground.

Harry watched as Draco spoke to the man and raised his right hand in a wave as the captain turned to look at him. The man waved in reply and nodded to Draco.

Draco bowed his head slightly in thanks and flew down towards Harry. "Couldn't wait to see me again, Harry?" He teased, running a hand through his sweaty blonde hair. Harry's eyes were bright as he retorted, "Of course not, Malfoy. I _ache_ every time you walk away from me." Draco chuckled. "Practice is done for today. Meet you out by the ring after a shower?" His eyes were smoldering as he lowered his voice, "Or would you rather join me?" Harry shook his head, grinning, "You're incorrigible, Draco." Draco grinned and took off.

Harry leaned on the posts, glancing up at the hoops, recalling the times when he was a part of the team at Hogwarts. On Weasley reunion days, they played of course; there were enough Weasleys to play a decent game of quidditch, but he rather missed playing seriously. He smiled fondly. "Alright, let's go." Draco looked as if he had just stepped out of the Witch Weekly's cover page, in his tan trousers and a black polo shirt. His pale skin and silver-blonde hair almost glowed in contrast to his attire. Harry had to tell himself to pick his jaw off the ground.

Draco grinned at Harry and offered him his hand. "The fact that you are slightly, I repeat, slightly taller than me, doesn't give you the right to push me around." Harry grumbled, ignoring the verity that Draco stood two-three whole inches taller than his own impressive six feet; taking the offered hand anyway. "Aw, I like you short, Simply Harry." Draco retorted, reaching out his free hand to ruffle Harry's hair. Harry stiffened the urge to hold the cool fingers against his hair and swatted at him. "It's already a rat's nest anyway, didn't think it would make much of a difference." Draco reasoned, chuckling. "Yeah, yeah, make fun of the less fortunate." Harry griped, shoving at him with his shoulder.

Draco threw his head back and laughed.

"It's not funny, you prat." Harry said, grinning himself. "Sure it isn't" Draco granted, still laughing. "Who would have thought, Potter?" He asked, after he had regained control of his breath. "You are actually fun once you get past the whole 'hero-complex' issue." Harry plastered a shocked look on his face and his eyes wide; he put his hand over his heart. "Oh, be still my beating heart." He cried. Draco's eyes shone in mirth. "Merlin, Malfoy, is that actually a compliment?" Draco nodded, solemnly. "I don't give them out a lot you know." He sneered. "Treasure it."

Harry concurred seriously. "I doubt my heart can take it, Draco." He grinned, suddenly. "But thank you. You have no idea how much your approval means to me, I'm all aflutter with joy." He was surprised to realize how true that was. Draco stuck out his tongue and Harry snorted. "Wow, how very mature of you."

But he realized that he was happier than he had been in ages and that thought terrified him like nothing ever had before.

_I had felt like I was leading a double life of sorts. When I was with Ginny and the other Weasleys, I was Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world; the Harry they had known forever, the Harry they could relate to, the Harry I had been my whole life, the Harry who did not want anything from life but Ginny as his wife, a picket fence, 2.5 kids and a dog. _

_With Draco, I was me; with him, I was just Harry, 'Simply Harry', as he would say. _

"So I spoke to Madame Rosenbaum, Harry, and she says we should go for a tropical forest sort of theme, since it's a spring wedding." Ginny said, her arms winding around his and holding tightly. Harry looked down at her and smiled, weakly. "Yeah?" That was all the encouragement she needed. She nodded, beaming and prattled on about what the wedding planner had suggested and what she herself approved of. Harry led them to the café opposite to the Auror Division Headquarters.

He pushed opened the door and paused, scanning the room unconsciously for silver-blonde hair. "Harry?" Ginny asked at his elbow. "Let's just sit down, okay, Ginny?" He asked, disappointment settling like lead in his gut. He knew for a fact that this was Draco's haunt during the mornings when he had no practice. So it just went to show that he _did_ have practice that morning. Ginny's team was done for this season, but Draco's was playing in the finals, so it was a given that they needed the practice.

"Are you okay, love?" Ginny asked, softly, concerned, after they had found a table to sit at. Harry glanced at her, his chest aching and smiled; not surprised at the effort it took. "I'm fine, Gin." He promised, wishing she would drop it. "You miss being at work, don't you?" Ginny smiled; her eyes full of love. Harry quelled the tears that wanted to spill. _Don't look at me like that, _He wanted to yell. "Yes, work." He said, instead. He sighed and looked out of the window. A pigeon perched on the pavement and hobbled around, looking for grains, cooing softly. Harry raised a hand and laid it against the cool glass, separating him from the outer world. "I miss being at work." He added.

Ginny took his callused, long fingers in hers and squeezed once, reassuringly. "Aw, its okay, Harry, love, you'll be at work in another week or so, right?" "Eight days" He mumbled, pulling his hand out of hers. Not that he was counting or anything. Ginny sighed. "You'll snap out of this phase once you start working, Harry." He ignored her. "Then we can get married and your life will have some sort of organization in it. Then you'll be happy, Harry, I know it." She said, confidently. Harry's fists clenched by his side and he resolutely kept his face turned away from her.

"Can I get you anything, sir, ma'am?" The waitress was young, blonde and Harry's eyes lingered rather longingly on her hair; but it wasn't the right shade of blonde. "Mineral water, please." He said, without making an effort to smile and turned away and tuned the rest of the world out. "Harry, can you co-operate with me, please?" Ginny asked him, her eyes filling with tears. He turned to look at her, finally giving in after his several attempts at ignoring her. "Can you at least pretend that you want to get married to me?" She stood up and made her way out of the café, trying not to let her sorrow overwhelm her. Harry followed.

Halfway to the nearest apparition point, he caught her arm and swung her around to face him.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, scowling. "Of course, I want to marry you. What brought this on all of a sudden?" Ginny shook her head. "I'm not stupid, you know. Irrespective of what you and Ron think, I'm not just a pretty face." Harry's eyebrow rose, questioningly, maybe a little mockingly. "Is there another girl, Harry?" Her voice rose in distress. Harry spluttered. "Hang on, what, no!" He took her hands in his. "Just calm down, okay? There is no other girl, Gin." He assured. "I'm very excited about the wedding." He said, after a pause.

_Liar_, some part of him taunted.

"I think, maybe, I'm coming down with something." He lied again, to support the previous lie and felt like a cheat. "Nothing that a few days in bed won't cure." He added, hastily, when she started to look concerned. "Maybe, I should just go home." He suggested. "If you're done with today's shopping, maybe, you could let me go?" He added, hopefully. She smiled. "You're sweet, Harry." She kissed him, slow, warm. "Of course, you can go home, love." She nipped at his bottom lip, playfully. "You can go even if I'm not done with today's shopping."

Feeling very sorry, for himself and for her, he pulled her into his arms, her soft curves molding into his hard planes and angles and buried his nose in her soft fire red hair. "I'm so sorry." He said. "I'm so sorry Ginny." He repeated, breathing erratically into her hair, apologizing for not loving her like he should. Ginny wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. "What are you apologizing for, silly?" She pushed away from him, smiling happily. "It's not your fault you're not feeling well. Go home." She pushed at him, gently.

He leaned down and kissed her gently. "I'll see you around?" He asked her. "Was there ever any doubt?" She teased. Grinning, he turned and walked to the apparition point. Just as he apparated out, Draco turned the corner, his broom in his right hand and the newspaper in his left and made his way to the café Harry and Ginny had just walked out of.

_I remember flooing Hermione that evening and telling her about the incident with Ginny. I remember telling her that I could be happy with Ginny; after all I had grown up with her and she was part of my life, part of me; will always be._

_Hermione had frowned at me and asked me, "Why are you settling for second-best, Harry?" I had frowned then. "I don't know what the best is 'Mione." I had explained. "What I don't know, can't hurt me, can it?" I had shrugged. "I'm happy enough with Ginny and she loves me. She is not asking for much, Hermione." I had said, earnestly. "Shouldn't I give her what little she is asking for?" _

_Hermione had chuckled, harshly. "Pull your head out of your arse, you jerk." It had given me pause because I've never heard Hermione curse. Not once. At all. Period. "When are going to understand that you're not doing anyone any favors by marrying her?" Her head had disappeared from the flames. She had left me gaping and seriously confused._

Harry heard the floo in the kitchen flare to life. "Hey, Simply Harry? Are you home, git?" Harry dropped the bed-sheet that he was changing abruptly on the bed and ran out the room. Over the second flight of stairs he tripped over his own feet and almost went flying into the wall. "Harry?" Draco's voice called again from the kitchen floo. "I'm coming, hang on, Draco." He bellowed, hoping his voice reached the kitchen. He jumped five stairs at the bottom most flight and skidded into the kitchen, panting for breath. "I'm here." He said, breathlessly, kneeling at the hearth. "I'm here." He repeated after a pause, grinning.

Draco's eyes twinkled. "Yes, I can see that." Harry chuckled. "What's up?" "Can I come over?" Draco asked him. "I've got an off day. No practice." He pouted. "I'm bored." Harry raised an eyebrow. "And I'm the person you're looking to, to; ah, deliver you from boredom?" Draco nodded, seriously. "Yes, you see, I thought your big Gryffindor heart and hero-complex would exhort you to save me from death by boredom." Harry laughed, standing up, "Come on over, then."

He told himself the giddy excitement blooming in the pit of his stomach was just because he was glad he didn't have to spend the day alone.

The flames leapt and Draco stepped gracefully out of the floo, dusting his white shirt and mumbling about floo being hazardous to good cloths. Harry grinned. "Hi." Draco looked up and held out his hands, smiling, "What, no hug for me, Potter?" Rolling his eyes and completely overlooking the possibility that Draco might have just been joking, Harry stepped into his open arms. For one long, silent, agonizing moment, Draco stood extremely still and Harry wondered if he had made a horrible mistake. He thought of stepping back, laughing and pleading temporary insanity. He imagined Draco looking at him in disgust and turning his back on him and flooing back to his house. His tortured mind bid him to step back immediately and do some serious damage-control. He moved to obey.

Then Draco's arms wound around his waist and he pulled Harry flush against his body, leaving no space even for air pockets. His heart thudding and blood pounding in his ears, Harry raised his arms and wrapped them around Draco's shoulder, his face snug against Draco's neck and Draco's face buried in Harry's soft black hair. If the hug was not as platonic as it should have been or if it went on for longer moments than was considered strictly friendly, neither of them acknowledged it.

When Draco's hands loosened, Harry stepped back as if doused with cold water and cleared his throat, awkwardly. Draco smiled uneasily. "That was some hug, Harry." He joked. When Harry didn't reply for long moments, he sighed. "Hey, it's okay." He watched intently, aware that most probably the guy was beating himself up for letting himself go like that. Anxious to put Harry back at ease with him, Draco hooked a finger under Harry's chin and raised his face to look into his eyes. "Don't feel awkward, Harry." He said, gently. He swatted at Harry's head. "These things happen once in a while; they aren't anybody's fault, usually, normal people forget them and move on." He nodded, solemnly.

Draco moved back and smiling, meandered into the hall. "So, what do you do for fun around here, Harry?"

_That's just the problem, isn't it?_ Harry thought with a bitter twist of his lips. Normal people forgot, he didn't think he would ever be able to forget the warmth of Draco's arms through his thin sweat shirt or the capricious feel of his face buried in his hair. He would never be able to feel comfortable with Ginny in his arms again; the feel of soft curves in place of solid, subtly toned muscle would feel alien. _You've ruined hugs for me forever, Malfoy_, Harry said mentally to the oblivious blonde, following him out into the sitting room.

_It was sort of a moment there, one that I had a feeling that I somehow ruined. I also got the impression that I had missed something fleeting. I was confused about my feelings for him; I was not gay; of that I was sure. Maybe I had issues with marrying Ginny but I liked kissing her and I had been attracted to other girls in the past; never to any guys. _

_I recall speaking to Hermione and Ron about it. _

"Are you gay, mate?" Ron asked, bluntly. Harry looked up, his eyes wild, shaking his head vigorously. "Oh, stop it, Ronald." Hermione chided and dropped to her knees beside Harry. "It doesn't matter, even if you are, Harry." She assured. Harry shook his head again, slumped against the cushions of the couch. "But, I'm attracted to girls, Hermione." He moaned, embarrassed enough to wish that the earth would open up and swallow him. "Maybe, you're bisexual, then." She said, thoughtfully.

There was a pause. Ron sat beside Harry and curled an arm around his shoulder, supportively. "It's alright, Harry. We're here, okay, mate? We'll figure it out." He swore, almost as if reassuring a child. Harry chocked. "It's just, it's all just so confusing and I...Draco is….and Ginny" He looked up, his eyes haunted. "I'm not gay, Ron." He seemed almost feverishly concerned and ardent on convincing his friends that he did not prefer men. Hermione looked at Ron and he gestured, helplessly. She sat on Harry's other side and pulled his face to her shoulders, gently.

"They are very liberal about homosexuals here in the wizarding world, Harry." She comforted. "No one is going to judge you." Ron nodded on his other side. "I don't know if you're aware, but Charlie's gay." He announced. Harry raised his head to look at him. "I'm serious. He came out in our sixth year. Mom even makes him bring all his significant prospects home." He nodded at the floo. "If you want, you could floo him and ask him any sort of doubts you might have." Harry turned red. "Ron!" He cried. "Oh, I doubt Charlie can tell him anything that books can't." Hermione interceded.

Harry stood, his face flaming, an unsure, rather shy smile on his face. "I am out of here." He declared. Hermione and Ron shared a soft, pleased smile.

_You see, when I was about five years old, life much less complicated; Aunt Petunia was much easier on me and she never let Uncle Vernon near me, Dudley wasn't old enough to know how to punch. When I drank the little milk she gave me, left over after feeding Dudley, and washed my own glass; she would on her good days, pat my head and let me watch Dudley's old tapes of classic Disney movies. _

_I remember Beauty and the Beast being the one I coveted the most._

_It was mostly the innocence of the mind, I supposed, years later. During those days, summer days were long, the sky cornflower blue and time of no true importance, during those when days I believed my parents had been killed in a car-crash. A part of me believed in magic in its most primeval state. The thought that a senseless, mindless beast; bitter and angry and unable to love could be transformed because he was loved by a girl; it made me happy in ways that I didn't understand. It gave me hope that perhaps some day…._

_It was important then, for me to have a dream as well. Somehow, falling in love, the same way Belle and the Beast did was so very important to me when I was five years old and naïve._

_My concept was a little different, though. Back then, of course, it was taboo in the house to even bring up men who liked other men. When we went to the supermarket after church on Sundays, there would be a scant few same sex couples around. It would make me glad for them, somehow, when they held each other like the world was ending and kissed earnestly once in a while. Aunt Petunia would pull Dudley and me to another aisle frowning. "Dirty faggots." Uncle Vernon would mumble, scowling. _

_When I frowned and looked at her, questioningly, she would glare at Uncle Vernon, "Not in front of the children, Vernon." She would hiss. _

_When I imagined falling in love; __I'd imagined something dramatic, soft, sweet, a slow-burning romance like in the Beauty and the Beast. I'd imagined rescuing an angry princess from herself, slowly chipping away at her _defenses_, breaking the curse, looking deep into her eyes, planting a slushy, wet kiss on her lips, and falling so deeply in love with her that I'd never even consider kissing anyone else again my entire life. I'd, of course, revised this game-plan over the years – sometimes being okay with a prince instead of a princess - but I'd still kept the idea of some great, slow, magical moment._

_I__ was therefore understandably surprised when the moment came on a Tuesday afternoon, five days before I got back to work, in the children's ward at St. Mungo's of all places. _

"Yes." Harry nodded, looking for all the world like he had just survived the titanic. "Andy came back last night." Hermione looked worried. "Have they found out what's wrong with Teddy, Harry?" Harry shook his head, his eyes sunken. No rest for the weary, it seemed. "They have him under observation."

Early that morning, Andromeda Tonks had flooed Harry, her eyes wild and voice rising in distress. She had migrated to some obscure property owned by the Blacks in France after the conclusion of the war, insisting that there were too many bad memories in England and wanting to raise Teddy without the prejudice of being a werewolf's son. Harry had let her go, keeping in touch with his godson through the floo and sending the little boy gifts for birthdays and other holidays; often feeling like a lousy godfather. Andromeda had pleaded with Harry to meet her at St. Mungo's where she had brought Teddy the previous night, burning to the touch, shaking and unconscious. None of the healers in France had been able to diagnose him, apparently.

He walked into the waiting room and felt his heart clench when he glanced at Andromeda. She looked so small and scared, huddled into herself in one of the uncomfortable chairs. He walked over to her side and put an encouraging hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, he tried a smile. "It's going to okay, Andy." He said, gently. "Teddy will be alright." She lowered her head. "Aunt Andy?" Harry looked up, his heart jumping at the familiar voice.

Andromeda stood and collapsed into his arms when he got close enough. "My grandson, Draco." She sobbed, her gut wrenching in fear. Draco held her tight, apparently oblivious to Harry's presence. "Hush, Aunt Andy, our Teddy is strong." He kissed her head, lightly and rocked on the balls of his feet, trying to calm her tears, his own eyes slightly wet.

"It'll be fine, I promise."

She pulled away from his arms and he wiped her tears gently with the pad of his thumb. Draco looked up, absently and saw Harry. His eyes widened in surprise. "Harry is Teddy's godfather." She said, looking rather defiantly at him. "That's why he's here." Draco smiled, quietly, as if sharing a secret. "I don't mind." He winked at Harry and Harry felt a flush climb up his cheeks. "Why don't you boys walk around a bit and let me sit here?" Andy suggested, absently, the fact that it was Harry and Draco she was sending out alone eluding her completely.

Draco sat her down, gently. "We'll check on Teddy and come running back to you, okay? Hang on, Aunt Andy." Draco told her, as Harry squeezed her shoulder, comfortingly. After making sure she was comfortable, Draco took Harry's elbow and guided him out of the waiting room. After they had walked a few paces, he pulled Harry to a stop and gently pushed him against a wall. He leaned closer, his eyes were piercing; a turbulent grey that reminded Harry of the lake on Hogwarts grounds during the storm.

"Are you okay?" The words were whispered so softly that Harry wouldn't have been able to hear them if they were not spoken almost against his own lips. Afraid to open his mouth and ruin the moment, Harry blinked twice at him. Nodding slightly, Draco moved back and gripped Harry's elbow again. Quietly, neither of them feeling much inclined to talk, they walked towards the children's ward. Harry wasn't sure he would be able to speak with the blood pounding in his ears and his heart thudding in his throat.

Teddy looked pale and small against the stark white sheets of the large hospital bed. His fever had been pulled down and his body was bearably warm to the touch. Harry ran a hand through his hair, lovingly. "You should have seen him when Andy brought him in." Harry murmured, morosely. Draco moved closer and sat beside Harry on the bed, taking the little boy's hand in his. "He's very warm." Draco murmured back. Teddy shifted on the bed and Harry stiffened, unconsciously. Blurry caramel brown eyes opened a slit. "Draco?" Teddy croaked. Draco was up and by Teddy's side in an instant. "I'm here, champ." He whispered, bending down to hear what his cousin had to say.

"I was so scared." Teddy whispered. He glanced to Draco's right. "Harry's here too?" Harry smiled, his chest aching, and moved closer to the little boy. "I'm here, too, love." He whispered, bringing Teddy's hands to his lips, slowly. Teddy smiled happily, tiredly and slipped once again into slumber. "I spend every weekend with him and Aunt Andy, if you're wondering." Draco said, quietly to Harry. "They are my only family left." Harry smiled softly, curling his hand around Draco's shoulder.

_It didn't come as a shock, I suppose; on some level, I even expected it._

_I had been standing by his side as he held my godson in his arms, his eyes gentle and his hands careful as he held Teddy like he was holding porcelain, as if, if he looked away, Teddy would shatter into a thousand pieces. His lips moved as he spoke to him and though I couldn't really hear the words, I knew they would be making Teddy feel safe and happy. _

_There was just a fleeting realization that somehow, somewhere, the tides had changed, that somehow, somewhere I had fallen irrevocably and completely, quite stupidly in love with this man. I smiled, at that point in time that realization did not frighten me. For a few minutes, there was only calm acceptance and somehow, I was at peace with myself and the world. _


	4. Sense of Smell

**Title: **Senses

**Disclaimer:** I am only writing for fun. Absolutely no profit involved, cross my heart.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Summary: **All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

**Author's notes: **Please enjoy and please, please drop me a few reviews as well.

**Senses: **

**Sense of smell: **

_When I had gone to bed that night, though there were obscure feelings of general unhappiness, I had been content. I had been at peace after so long a time that I couldn't remember when the last time was that I was so relaxed, so calm. I remember waking to the smell of good food. _

"_Harry, love;" Ginny had called from the kitchen. "I'm making you breakfast." _

_And any and every good feeling I had; had flown right out of the proverbial window. I remember feeling like someone had slugged me good and hard across my head. When I got out of bed, my movements were shaky and my legs just wouldn't support me. My vision blurred, even as I placed my glasses on my nose, because, suddenly, they were filled with tears. I sunk to the ground, my head between my knees. My magic prickled and boiled beneath my skin, asking, begging for a release and I had held on with everything that I had. _

_What had I done? _

"Harry?" Ginny pushed open the door to his bedroom, gently, trying not jolt him awake if he was still asleep. She paused at the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to still dark room. "Harry?" she called again, softly. The slow sound of heavy breathing reached her ears and her eyes moved automatically to the figure hunched on the carpet close to the bed. She crossed the room and dropped to her knees by him. "Harry?" She took his shaking shoulder in a gentle grip. "Did you have a nightmare, love?" He shook his head, fervently.

"Harry, talk to me." Ginny said, a bit afraid now. Harry shook his head again, his eyes glassy, whole frame trembling. "Leave." He croaked, his eyes wild. "Leave now, Ginny, please." She stood, aware now of the power of the raw magic humming beneath Harry's skin threatening to rage beyond his control. She tried to be brave. "No, Harry, I'm here." She was trembling herself. "Talk to me."

Harry gritted his teeth, his eyes clenched shut. "Get the fuck out, idiot." He bit out. A wild wind blew threw the room and dissolved just as quickly as it had started. The glass dome of the little night light on the bedside table broke with a loud crack and the glass pieces vibrated in the air for a still moment before flying towards Ginny. She had frozen; her eyes wild. Just before the sliver of glass made contact with her skin, a shield appeared before her. Harry was standing; his eyes open wide, a trace of fear in them- _fear for her_, she realized- his hands outstretched, teeth clenched. "Go, Ginny." He snarled, the magic flowing through him making his voice feral. His eyes glowed eerily. Ginny turned and fled the room.

The world came crashing down around Harry.

_I hadn't lost control of my magic like that since the final battle when I had absorbed some of Voldemort's power. It had scared me the intensity of emotions that Draco could bring out in me. I had had a perfectly well-built, structured life. I was employed where I had wanted to be since I knew who Aurors were and what they did. I had a surrogate family whom I coveted and had expectations of me that I had to fulfill. I was going to get married in a few months. _

_I wasn't going to give all that up just because my heart wanted the unattainable. Throwing all that away would have been just foolish and going against everything in me that preferred the safe and the comfortable. _

"He doesn't let anybody see him, Draco. He doesn't answer his floos either. Andromeda flooed this morning. She seemed worried for Harry as well. She told me that he looked extremely pale and withdrawn, as if he wasn't sleeping well." Hermione bit her lip, frustrated and worried. "Ginny told me that he lost control of his magic two days ago. That hasn't happened in a very long time." She glanced up at him again. "I'm worried for him."

Draco frowned.

"Will you try talking to him?" Hermione asked him, quietly. "I don't really know if this is asking too much of you, but…" She paused, unsure. Draco was still frowning. "Sure, I'll try, immediately, I promise, 'Mione." He assured. "Stay calm, okay?" He smiled, a small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth and cancelled the floo call.

Hermione sat back, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and feeling scared.

_I kept the floo closed and the only place I had visited those two days of my self-imposed isolation was the children's ward at St. Mungo's. Teddy was just having Werewolf Withdrawal Syndrome, as the Healers put it. Though Remus had been a werewolf, Teddy did not exhibit signs of becoming a werewolf himself as he had not been bitten, but he did have dormant wolf genes that became erratic during the times of the full-moon. It was, of course, no threat to his or anyone's lives, but he could not be cured nonetheless. Happy that her grandson was in no life-threatening danger, Andy had collected Teddy's potions and portkeyed him back to France the very next day. _

_Satisfied at that outcome, at least, I had come back to Grimmauld Place and sealed myself inside._

"Simply Harry! Hey, where are you, prat?" Draco hollered at the floo. Harry ignored the call, feeling a nasty prick of guilt. "Harry?" Draco yelled again. He had to keep Draco away from him, lest he do something stupid and potentially and exponentially disastrous. He called for Kreacher. "What is Kreacher being doing for Master Potter?"

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Tell Draco I'm not home." He bid. Kreacher frowned disapprovingly. "Master Malfoy call for Master Potter because he is being concerned." The elf explained. "Why is Master Potter being nasty to him?" Harry glared. "How come you have no problem asking Ginny to get lost?" The question was purely rhetorical. The elf popped out, his disapproval hanging heavy in the air. Harry sighed and sat heavily down on the bed.

"Harry, I know you're here." Draco bellowed. "Why won't you come to the floo?" Kreacher popped back in and stared mock-sadly at Harry. "Master Malfoy is not being believing Kreacher." He informed. Harry growled, frustrated. "Why are you doing this, you jerk?" Draco called, his voice angry. "Everyone is really worried about you." Harry stalked downstairs, unceremoniously.

"What do you want?" He snapped at the head floating in the flames.

Draco's glare softened. "Harry, love, tell me what's wrong." He said, coaxingly. Harry blushed to the roots of his hair and his heart leapt in his chest. Tired of fighting his emotions all the time, he collapsed cross-legged on the carpet before the hearth. "Just talk to me, Draco." He said, jadedly. "Just…just tell me something, anything." Draco sighed. "Before I do that, I want to know if you're okay, Harry. Just smile once for me, honestly, and I won't ask you what's troubling you again, deal?" He smiled softly at Harry.

Harry's entire body tensed with the desire to hug Draco to him, yet he smiled, it was an effortless thing for him to do when Draco was around. His smile was easy and pleasant and his eyes lit up with warmth. Draco's smile widened. "See, now was that so hard, Simply Harry?" Harry shook his head, feeling oppressed. Draco began speaking, laughingly, of Skeeter's latest article in the Daily Prophet about the rising prices of Madame Crenshaw's beauty potions, his dry wit peeking through and making Harry shake with mirth in intervals. Every once in a while, aching with the need to simply hold the blonde close to him, Harry smiled and smiled and smiled.

_I still dreamt of Draco, only now, he was never in any negative role. On the days that I was too tired to actively censor my dreams, I saw a little boy with midnight black hair and gunmetal-grey eyes. He was always smiling, always happy. I wondered, often who the boy was; I had never seen a child as beautiful as him my entire life. _

_It was increasingly hard, not to run into Draco. My feet led me to his side whenever I was aware that he was in the vicinity. And he never made it any harder for me to love him. Every time I left his side, I was so sure that I couldn't possibly love him anymore and when I saw him the next time, I fell more madly in love with him. I loved him for his imperfections and nothing was going to change that because I had, already, seen him at his lowest. _

_I sometimes wondered since, fighting my attraction for him was almost impossible, why not just give up and let go? And then I answered myself, I had way too much to lose. _

"Harry, you're coming out with me, now."

Harry shook his head, staring resolutely at the television screen. Ginny scowled. "Why the hell are you like this, you git?" The pitch of her voice was driving Harry up the wall. She had been talking about things that Harry didn't even care about for the last hour or so. "Ginny, just, just go, okay?" He jabbed his finger at the kitchen. "Let me be for awhile." He said, his voice dull.

Ginny walked into the kitchen, an ugly frown marring her otherwise quietly pretty face. The floo flared to life. "Harry?" Draco yelled, startling Ginny almost out of her skin. He paused when he noticed her. "Weasley." He nodded, almost civilly. Ginny glowered at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?" "A little trouble in paradise, perhaps?" He mocked, his smile turning hostile. "It's none of your business, you bastard." She snarled. "Get out of our lives."

Harry walked in, frowning

"What- ?" He stopped short when he saw Draco's head in the flames. "Draco?" His heart leapt in his chest and he couldn't help the slow, happy smile that bloomed across his lips. "Hi. What's going on?" Draco smiled back, soft and secretive. "Just wanted to see you, prat." Harry's eyes shone behind the round frames. Ginny's voice was low and angry when she spoke, her eyes lit with a feral light; interrupting them. "Do you want me to leave the room and give you some privacy?"

Harry turned quickly to face her, almost guiltily, his eyes apologetic.

Draco's reaction was rather strange. His smile grew dangerous, an untamed, wild edge to it. His teeth glinted. His eyes were smouldering when they turned to Harry. "Please, Weaslette, if you would be so kind." He drawled, his voice hoarser than usual, more predatory. "I'd like a moment with Harry. Alone." Harry snapped his head back to Draco's when he spoke, his eyes widening, his heart rate accelerating.

"You can talk and laugh time with him…" Ginny said, her voice rising, uncensored and Harry flinched, turning back to look at her. "And you have qualms about spending time with me?" She was shaking, her eyes blazing like an inferno. "He's my friend, Gin." Harry said, desperately. She shook her head, her hand reaching for her wand. Harry narrowed his eyes at her, warningly, and her hands twitched. Dropping them to her side unceremoniously, she turned and stormed out of the room, cursing fluently, her voice reaching Harry and Draco in the kitchen. The front door slammed shut, the bang echoing around the huge house. Harry winced.

A tense silence descended over the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I was only joking." Draco said, into the silence, his voice back to its normal lilting pitch, though drenched in guilt. Harry shook his head, blindly and left the room, Draco's voice calling after him, almost pleadingly.

_There had to be some way that I could, maybe, push him into staying away from me. But, I didn't want to. Just being near him in any capacity made me rather happy, if you don't count the aching, pressing need to just hold him. Ginny was aware now, if not of the intensity of my feelings for him, then at least that I considered him an irreplaceable part of my life. And that made it all the more difficult to hide, to keep it a secret from him. She grew more bitter, though, and threw herself ardently into keeping me away from him as much as possible. _

_I remember_ _Draco having rather a nasty run-in with Ginny_ _the next day. _

Ginny leaned against Harry, almost droopily. Ron and Hermione sat across from them, Hermione squinting rather angrily at Ginny's prone form and Ron gravitated between feeling bad for his sister because this was obviously not going her way and feeling bad for Harry because this was, again obviously, not going his way, either. Harry's eyes were shut, like he was trying to block out the whole world, like he was trying to give 'out of sight, out of mind' a whole new meaning.

A knock on the door abruptly shattered the tense silence in the room.

Ron stood, his entire frame stiffening. He glanced at Hermione. When they had invited Draco to dinner, they hadn't accounted for Ginny tagging along with Harry. Hermione stood as well and her lips tightened into a straight line when Ginny stirred and Harry opened his eyes, questioningly. "It's Draco." She announced, tersely. Her tone was warning when she spoke to Ginny. "Behave." She directed and went to open the door.

Ginny's eyes sharpened, her muscles pulling taut in tension. She took a deep breath and settled more comfortably against Harry, her arms winding around his lean frame; her face resting against his neck. Harry squirmed, uncomfortable, feeling strangely like he was cheating on Draco, because clearly he was with Ginny and it was more conventional to feel the other way around.

Then he relaxed, an ironic smile twisting at his lips. He had never been too conventional, had he?

Draco walked into the hall after Hermione, a calm smile on his face. His eyes slid over Harry and Ginny and his eyes flickered in distaste briefly. Then he bowed his head, slightly. "Harry, hey. Weasley, it's a…" He paused, as if seeking a word. "…pleasure." He completed, sounding too sincere to be true. His smile was so obviously put-on and Ron turned his head to hide a grin. "Come to the kitchen with me." Hermione said, her fingers curling, almost protectively around Draco's arm. Smiling genuinely at her, he turned his back to the couple on the couch. "Anything for you, doll." He drawled, teasingly. Swatting at his arm, grinning, she led him away, telling him about the potion she was researching.

"Why is _he_ here, Ron?" Ginny snapped at her brother when Ron sat back down. "_He_ is my friend, Ginny and one of 'Mione's as well." Ron glared pointedly at Harry. "And one of Harry's too, if I'm not very much mistaken, and I'm sure I'm not." He swung his eyes back at Ginny when Harry did not speak. "So, if we want him here, he has every right to be here and we don't need your permission to want him _in our house_."

Ginny stood, abruptly.

"If that's how you want it…" Her voice was pitched low, almost snarling. Harry stood as well, holding his hand out to Ginny, his eyes flashing with a warning light. Ron remained seated, observing calmly. "Leave him be, Ginny." Harry snapped. "What have you got against him?" Ginny turned to Harry, incredulously. "What have I…? Harry, how can _you_ possibly ask me such a question?" Harry stared back, unmoved.

"After all his father's done..." She ranted. "He is not his father, Ginny." Harry interrupted, firmly. "But he…" Draco walked in with the salad bowl, Hermione following with the smaller bowls and forks. "Everything okay in here?" He asked, lightly, his eyes glinting with some obscure emotion. Ginny whirled to face him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Go back to where you came from, you Death Eater." She howled, her voice rising dangerously. Hermione's and Ron's simultaneous cries of 'Ginny!' went unheard. "Nobody wants you here." She snapped, her wand pulled out. "You're nothing but a burden."

Draco stood frozen, the salad bowl still in his arms. A jet of red light came flying at him as Ginny called out an incantation and bounced harmlessly off Harry's shield at the last moment. Harry moved to stand in front of Draco, his own wand out and glared menacingly at Ginny. "Go home, Ginny." His voice was cold, his eyes expressionless. "Go home before your own brother kicks you out of his house for insulting his guest and his friend." He snarled when she did not move.

Draco sighed and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry leaned unconsciously into him as the fresh, seductive scent of pine and thyme assaulted his senses and turned his knees to jelly. He took a step back, into Draco. "It's alright, Harry." He moved back, taking his arm and the scent with him and Harry resisted the urge to groan. Draco put the salad bowl in Hermione's arms. "I think I've overstayed my welcome." He smiled, sadly at Ron and clapped him on his back. "Catch you later mate." He said, almost hopefully and left, grabbing his coat and shutting the door behind him.

Hermione turned to Ginny, furious. "Ginerva Weasley." She snarled, her lips pulled back. "If you cannot be civil to _my_ friend inside _my_ house, then you've pretty much overstayed your welcome too." Ginny glanced to Ron, pleadingly. Ron put his arms around his wife and stood his ground. Her eyes turned cold. She turned to Harry. "Are you coming, Harry?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Go on ahead. I'll join you in a few." He replied, rubbing at his forehead, thinking longingly of Firewhiskey. Turning tail, she flooed out, without so much as a 'goodbye' to her brother and sister-in-law.

Harry turned to Hermione, his eyes apologetic, heart heavy. "I'm so sorry 'Mione." Hermione glanced back, stonily. "It's not us you need to apologize to, Harry." Sighing, with a soft 'catch you guys, later', Harry flooed out as well.

_That night, Ginny was unbearable to be around. _

_She drove me barmy with her constant sullying of Draco's name, his character, his ancestral history, and when she had burned herself out and flooed home, I wondered if anyone in the Malfoy family had been spared. _

_I didn't speak to Draco till he came to see me a few days later. _

Draco knocked on the door and waited, frowning. A few minutes later, Harry pulled the door open. "What?" He barked. Draco glared. "Let me in, Harry." He said, keeping a foot wedged in the door in case Harry decided to shut it on his face. But apparently, Harry was in a better mood than he had been and he stood back and let Draco in. "Who put a stick up your ass?" Draco teased, trying for casual. Harry sneered at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He retorted meanly and walked into the kitchen.

Taken aback, Draco followed him with his eyes.

"You going to stand there under my staircase all day, Malfoy?" Harry called from the kitchen. Draco shuffled into the kitchen and sat at the dining table. Harry was apparently cooking, leaning over a bubbling pot, his back turned to Draco. "I'm very sorry about the thing with Weaslette, er, Ginny." He asked Harry, quietly, after a pause. Harry's heart jumped and he turned. He ran his eyes over Draco's silver-blonde hair- a wayward bang curling over his forehead-; his gunmetal grey eyes- filled with hurt- his straight aristocratic nose and his soft pouty lips longingly. He took a step forward, and then turned away abruptly, trying to reign in the sheer _want _that coursed through him.

He sighed. "No, Malfoy, not your fault or anything; things have been rather tense between us lately." Draco slid slowly off the chair and made his way to where Harry stood. "Do, you forgive me, then?" Draco whispered. Harry turned, with a slight smile. "Nothing to forgive, of course, Malfoy." He said, reassuringly and then turned back to the pot. "Then how come we're back to last names, Harry?" His body was warm behind Harry's and Harry felt slightly light-headed. He took a deep breath to keep from blacking out. The scent of fresh thyme and pine after a refreshing rain assaulted his senses and for a moment Harry's world went black. He wondered if he would pass out and embarrass himself.

"Draco…" He whispered. "Right here, Harry." Draco mumbled against his ear, his lips skimming his earlobe, his chest flush against Harry's back. Harry's hands trembled on the spatula. "Draco…" He said again almost desperately as Draco's arms wound around his torso. "Here, Harry." Draco repeated, his teeth tugging a bit at Harry's earlobe and his tongue tracing the sensitive shell of his ear. Harry drew in a shaky breath. _God_, the scent was maddening. Why had he not noticed it before? "Draco…"He breathed, his voice reverent like he was saying like a prayer.

"I'm right here, Harry, what _are_ you doing?" Harry turned, his cheeks flushing. Draco was leaning against his counter, lips pulled into a little smirk; far away from him, but not far away enough for Harry to disregard the slyly seductive scent of thyme and pine. Harry glared at him. "What?" He snapped, mortified. Draco shook his head, his eyes shining, trying not to laugh. Harry hoped he hadn't figured out what had been going through his head.

"I asked you how come we're back on last names." Draco said, suddenly serious, not moving, watching Harry, his eyes hooded. "We're not." Harry mumbled, absently. "We can never be again." Draco frowned, confused. "What kind of a cryptic statement is that?" Harry flushed. "Never mind." He said. "No, tell me." Draco moved closer. "What is wrong with you?" Harry took a few steps back, hoping his heart didn't show in his eyes. "Don't Draco, please. Drop it." He pleaded, his eyes straying to Draco's outstretched hands.

Draco noticed the movement and stopped, stock still.

He smiled, a twisted and ugly smile, one devoid of all mirth. He smiled the same smile he had smiled when Harry had expressed his condolences at his mother's funeral. Unexpectedly, Harry's insides turned to ice. Draco pulled up the sleeve of his left hand, roughly. "Is this what's holding you back from being completely open with me, Potter? You feel like your fiancée too, is that right?" He asked Harry coldly. The dark mark stood out like a beacon of light over the dark sea, marring Draco's alabaster skin; which strangely did not look any less perfect to Harry even with the stamp of evil magic on it. Harry stood, frozen. The thought had not even crossed his mind.

Draco took a few steps back. "What would the world think of their savior, consorting with Death Eater scum?" He said, his face blank. "Is that what's worrying you, Potter?" Draco had his back to the wall and Harry stood very still and very quiet because Draco sounded so _hurt _and all Harry wanted to do was take him in his arms and kiss him till he erased the last few minutes completely from the idiot's mind. But that was a dangerous thing to want where the blonde was concerned. So Harry did not move.

Draco stepped into the floo. "The game is in a week, Potter." He said, almost consolingly. "After that, you'll never see me again." Eyes swimming with hurt as he made that promise, he flooed out, leaving Harry feeling devoid of all warmth and numb. He sunk to the floor of the kitchen; he was so bone-achingly _tired_.

_I had been so out of it, worn, tired and all my defenses were weak and rundown; almost obliterated. All I wanted to do was kiss Draco till the both couldn't even remember our names anymore, have some mind-blowing sex; because it was obviously going to be mind-blowing, have you seen Draco Malfoy?- and then curl up in his arms and sleep forever. _

_But we are not always going to get what we want, right? Life is not a bed of roses. And let's face the facts, this is me. When do I ever get what I want? So I tried to move on with the normal- read: boring- life I had been living before Draco flew into it. Literally. _

She pulled away, almost glowing happily. "I'll come over tonight?" she whispered, almost giddily. Harry smiled, rather pathetically. "Sure. I'll keep the floo open for you." Ginny waved and walked into the ministry building. Hermione shook her head. "I swear to freaking Merlin, I'm surrounded by idiots." Hermione and Harry made their way towards the Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch. "Harry, talk to Draco, love, I can see that it's killing you." She threw her hands up. "Anyone can see that it's killing you."

"What do you know, Hermione?" Harry asked her, his voice low, angry. She glanced at him, surprised. She opened her mouth to answer, but Harry interrupted, "No, seriously, 'Mione, what _do _you know?"

"How can you possibly understand how I sleep to thoughts of him, dream of him and wake up to thoughts of him? How you possibly comprehend that I imagine pale blonde hair in my hands every time I have my hand through Ginny's? Or how every time I hear the floo flare I run to the kitchen tripping over my feet hoping that it's him? Or maybe how every time I pass the stadium, I stop and listen for his voice? Fuck, how my heart aches like it's dying every time I think about him, which is almost every moment of every day?

Hermione smiled, suddenly. Harry's eyes were glowing with tears. "Harry love, people can fall in and out of love many many times in a single life-time." She told him, moving to hug him. "But growing to hold someone as precious to you as you hold Draco, it happens just once. Don't let him go, Harry, please." Harry shook his head against Hermione's shoulder. "I can't, 'Mione, Ginny and the Weasleys…I can't let them down." He pulled away from her and walked into the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione expelled her breath on a curse. "Oh, for the love of…" She followed him into the restaurant.

And stopped short, crashing into Harry; who had stopped as if shot, his eyes locked on the blonde and his companion in the bar on the first floor; through the banisters, leaning on which they stood their backs to Harry and Hermione. The first floor had of course been added after The Cauldron had been renovated after the war. Draco was laughing, his head thrown back. "Hang on, are you serious?" He asked, still chuckling slightly. The man with him clapped his hand over his shoulder and they both came down the staircase side by side, the man regaling Draco with the continuation of whatever tale had been so humorous.

Harry ducked under a beam, pulling Hermione with him as they came closer and held her to him for some sort of comfort when his heart clenched as Draco and his companion passed and the scent of thyme and pine glided and curled around Harry. Harry took in a deep breath and shuddered under Hermione's bracing hand. "Hermione…" Harry keened, as if he was in physical pain. Hermione's eyes watered, she hurt for her friend. "Go to him, Harry." She urged. "If it hurts you that much to be away from him, go to him."

He shook his head, his teeth clenched, the scent driving him barmy.

"Let's sit." He nodded at the table farthest away from the beam. Hermione agreed quickly and followed his shaky steps to the table. She took his hand in hers as he collapsed into the seat and once again took a deep breath. He smiled humorlessly when he inhaled the subtle nuances of Draco's scent again. Was he some kind of masochist or what? Did he like punishing himself? It was something to think about….

_It was torture, not seeing him, not hearing his voice; not having his arms around me in that unassuming way of his. I missed everything about him so terribly that I wondered how I had ever survived without him in my life. _

_The strange thing was I missed the silliest things about him; things that I wouldn't have even noticed with other people. I missed the way that single strand of hair would stand up straight on his head, despite his numerous unconscious efforts to flatten it. I missed the way his eyes crinkled in the corner when he was genuinely amused or the light modest smile he would flash when someone commented on his seeking skills._

_I missed the way the sun reflected off his hair, making it glow like a halo around his head and the way he laughed, head thrown back and pearly whites on display when I teasingly mentioned it. I missed the small dimple that would appear at the corner of his mouth when he smiled reassuringly and the way his eyebrows scrunched when he got annoyed every time his wand hostler slipped a few inches down his arm. I missed, horribly, the way he said, "Simply Harry" like that was all I was to him, like me being the boy-who-lived had absolutely nothing to do with why he liked me, like he liked me for me._

_It just wasn't sane, feeling like that about someone I had known, for all means and purposes for a few weeks. _

Harry leaned on the picket fence wrapping his arms around himself to quell the cold. Though it was chilly, the night was clear and crisp. The smell of the fresh, dewy thyme plants floated all around him and he smiled, painfully, remembering Draco and his favorite dimply smile. There was not a cloud in the sky and since Ottery St. Catchpole was as far away from any muggle civilization as one could get, there was a clear, pollution free view of the sky. The stars glowed like embers in a kindling fire and crickets chirped all around. It was a pleasant night.

"Harry." Harry turned and offered the man standing in the threshold to the Burrow a warm smile. "Mr. Weasley." "Can I join you?" The man was smiling, fondly. Harry laughed slightly, gesturing forward. "Yes, of course, sir, you don't have to ask." The Weasley patriarch walked over to Harry's side and leaned on the fence beside him. Harry took a deep breath again, aching for the blonde's presence. "You know, before Molly, I was engaged to a friend of mine whom I had known since infancy." Arthur said, startling Harry out of his reverie.

Harry turned to look at him; Arthur was gazing nostalgically into the air, a slightly sad smile on his face. "Yeah? What happened to her?" Harry asked, curiously, wondering why the man was sharing this with him. They had never been very close. Arthur turned to look at Harry. "You see, my boy, it was an arranged situation, a convenience of sorts." He paused, allowing it to sink in. "And though the girl loved me, all I felt for her was the sisterly affection one would feel for a childhood friend, the sort that you feel, Harry, for Hermione and perhaps…" He paused and took Harry by his shoulder, "the same kind of affection that you feel for Ginny?"

Harry glanced at the man, surprise flooding his face. Arthur sighed and let Harry go. "I eventually broke off the engagement because Molly was the one who made me truly happy." He glanced at Harry out the corner of his eyes, still leaning on the fence. "You have to find out who makes you truly happy, Harry." He turned to go inside. "And if have already found the one, then you have to go after that person." He gave Harry a warm hug. "Because being truly happy in a life-time is not a gift everyone is granted."

With a small encouraging smile, Arthur turned and walked into the Burrow.

_It felt like I had imagined it, that conversation with Arthur; because come on, he was giving me an out and he didn't seem too worried about it. He was the second Weasley who seemed to have no problem with me breaking off the marriage with Ginny. I often wondered after that, how many Weasleys felt the same. _

_That question was partially answered when the Weasley twins invited Ron and me over to the joke-shop for the annual board meeting. I had laughed when they had invited me over for the first time, a year after the war and used that exact term. After all, they had argued, Ron and I were share-holders. I picked Ron up after work, glancing longingly at the building that I wouldn't be allowed to enter by orders of the Head Auror for three more days. Draco's game was in five days, a traitorous part of my mind whispered. _

_Ron clapped me on the shoulder, sympathetically and led the way to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. "Draco's game is in five days, mate." Ron said, quietly. "You are coming to watch, aren't you?" I shook my head, grinning slightly. Was there an echo in here? "I wouldn't miss it for the world." I replied, truthfully. Ron smiled, "It'll work out, Har, you'll see." _

"Ickle Ronnikins…" The twins greeted in sync as Ron and Harry walked in. Ron rolled his eyes and shut the door after himself. They smiled creepily. "Ickle Harrikins, as well." They clapped their hands giddily. "Why, this must be…" The other twin completed his sentence. "….our lucky day." Ron shook his head, complaining, "Can you guys not do that? It's creepy."

"What?" The twins synced smiling. "This?" They asked as one. Ron mock-shuddered. Harry grinned. "Hey guys." The twins led the way to the back of the shop where they had placed a huge table and a few chairs for familial visitors. "Since, you're going to be family, I guess you count as well, Harry." One of the twins, Harry thought it was George, said. Harry's smile dimmed a few notches. The other twin, obviously Fred, grinned and nodded. Ron cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Let's just do this board meeting thing okay?" Ron asked, sitting beside Harry and shoving Fred out of the way. George frowned. "About Ginny, mate." He said bluntly. Harry flinched. "There's something Fred and I have been meaning to talk to you about." Fred sat on Harry's other side. "Hmm, yes, you realize even we wouldn't wish Ginny on you for life, Harry?" Ron burst out laughing and George clapped him on the back. "We wouldn't, mate." Fred leaned close as if telling a secret. "Even if you do break off things with her, know that you won't be rid of us." George shook his head, smiling maniacally. "Nope, not rid of us, never." He promised.

Harry smiled gratefully. "And mate?" Harry turned back to Fred. "Don't tell her we said that." Harry grinned at Ron over George's head. Ron flashed him a soft smile and a thumbs-up.

_It was very them, the kind of support they offered me; blunt and forward, yet loyal to a fault. It was just another of those make or break kind of decisions, you know? I was getting a pretty big break here and I felt guilty, I had underestimated their affection for me on many levels. Not all Weasleys were all that close to me, but the ones who were- Ron, the twins, Arthur- I had their support and in a big way that's all that mattered to me. It was just the next step in a natural progression, breaking things off with Ginny and calling off the wedding. _

_Yet, there was a sort of nagging feeling of sorts- obligation, perhaps? - that wouldn't let me break things off with her. Not even for Draco Malfoy who was probably, then, the person, I realized with a sort of numb shock, I loved the most in the world._


	5. Sense of Taste

**Title: **Senses

**Disclaimer:** I am only writing for fun. Absolutely no profit involved, cross my heart.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco

**Summary: **All it took him to learn how to dream was a glimpse of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

**Author's notes: **Hello. First off, am extremely sorry for the rather late update. I was out of town for two weeks and couldn't take my laptop and then it decided to die on me. So I have been running back and forth trying to get it repaired. Fortunately, all my documents were unharmed.

Thanks to all my readers and to all those who reviewed and stuck with me this far. The earth spins because of you. Well, enough rambling I suppose. Enjoy.

**Senses: **

**Sense of Taste**

_I got back to work the next day and it seemed like I had been shown the light. At least now, there was something to occupy my time and I didn't automatically keep my ears and eyes peeled for him all the time. _

_Ginny had settled too, all her anxieties of me straying were being kept at bay by the fact that I could actually speak to people without sounding like the world was coming to an end and kiss her without gagging and feeling as if someone had cast a burning hex at my chest. Life had settled, I could almost say, to its mundane existence before Draco. I always thought of life that way since then, Before Draco and After Draco. Before him, it had been before Voldemort and after Voldemort; but Voldemort wasn't the most important part of my life anymore. After Draco, I doubt anyone would ever be as important._

_I found myself often wondering often what Draco was doing to keep himself occupied when his team wasn't practicing now. The previous week, he had spent all his free time with me. The evening I joined back at work, I discovered the answer to that mental question._

"So you know he is our man but do not have enough evidence to pull an arrest without repercussions?" Harry asked, his eyes scanning the reports he held in his hands. Seamus nodded. "The man's got pretty useful contacts." He told Harry, lightly. Harry acknowledged the comment and closed the file, "Useful contacts in the Ministry?" He questioned, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. Seamus grinned. "Kingsley's already working on them." He assured. "So we go after the henchman?" Harry grinned in anticipation, leading the way out of the office. Seamus followed him, slipping his wand into the wand hostler tied firmly to his bicep. "Yes, mate, Marcus Flint is our man." Marcus Flint, the first Slytherin Quidditch Captain Harry had ever played against.

Harry's eyes glinted. He would definitely enjoy this.

Seamus and Harry apparated with the lag of a whole minute between each other into Knockturn Alley from the Ministry Atrium, knowing it from reliable sources to be the former Slytherin's most preferred haunt. Seamus gestured with his head towards a dingy corner, at the sign that announced 'Coven' in sleazy crimson writing, bold and thick at the bottom; narrow, pointed at the top. Harry wondered if someone had clawed the writing. Nodding to Seamus, he made his way towards the door of the seedy pub.

He pushed open the door and walked in, his hand on his wand under his robes and Seamus so close behind him that he could feel his partner's anxious breath on the nape of his neck. The bar was thick with the scent of sweat and smoke, hot and uncomfortable. Seamus's nose wrinkled in distaste. Harry glanced around, a quick cursory look, noticing possibly hostile people and all plausibly obscure escape routes. "The bar, mate?" Seamus hissed into his ear. Harry agreed and made his way towards the bar. Seamus followed without a moment's hesitation.

Harry smiled benignly at the bar-keeper. The bear-like man stared back, not even the hint of a smile on his face, his hand motions, wiping the snifter he held, not stilling. Harry wasn't discouraged. He leant forward, "Can you tell me where I can find Marcus Flint?" The man's expression did not alter and he put the snifter down, his motions strangely gentle for such a huge man. Seamus tensed behind Harry.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said after a few moments of silent contemplation. Harry's smile sharpened, his eyes glinted dangerously. Moving very slowly, he pulled out his Auror Badge and placed it on the bar table, his grip tight on it. "I am aware from a very reliable source Mr. Pasterelli that the legal license of your little place expired a few months ago." He said, softly, his smile in place.

The man trembled and his eyes darkened. He stretched out his hand for his wand. Harry was over the table before anyone could see that he had moved the man's arms in his tight grip. "I am trying to play nice, Mister Pasterelli." He hissed, his voice bordering on menacing. The man's eyes widened when he saw Harry's wand trained on his chest and Seamus's own pointed at his back. He cautiously took in Harry's fringe and the scar that lay proudly beneath. He deflated. "Try the table at the left most corner." He grunted. Harry's grin was quick and all teeth. "Thank you." He swung himself over the bar and nodded to Seamus.

Seamus turned abruptly and walked in the direction the bar-keeper had pointed them to. Harry disappeared into the crowd his eyes trained on Seamus. The crowd of people who sat at the table where they were told they'd find Flint were a boisterous lot. Flint sat at the centre, holding court, looking as smug and sneering as he had at Hogwarts. Seamus stopped close to the person who sat outer-most in the circle and nodded sharply to Flint when he looked up.

Flint smirked, his eyes shining in challenge and in a sudden move, he twisted and apparated out of the dingy little pub.

Seamus sighed and relaxed his grip on his wand. Harry appeared at his elbow, chuckling. "Why they think that's going to work, I will never understand." Seamus said, his lips curling into a smile in the face of Harry's laughter.

"Let's go, mate." Harry said, his voice peppered with amusement. They left the bar side by side, not in any great hurry. Harry pulled out his wand as they turned the bend into Diagon Alley. He whispered an incantation and the wand sparked and remained still in his hand for a moment. They waited. Then it spun and pointed south of where they were standing. Harry smiled grimly.

What he had just used was a more complex version of the 'Point-Me' spell designed precisely for the use of situations like these. The spell could trace the signature of the person the caster bid it to and point them in the direction from where it sensed the perpetrator's magical signature. Harry felt a kind of tug, as the wand led him and Seamus to Flint. "What they wouldn't do to be able to find an anti Point-Me spell of sorts." Seamus commented, laughingly, jogging after Harry. Harry grinned.

His wand led them straight to the alcove where the Auror Headquarters were located. Harry frowned as they slowed to a stop. "Rather stupid of him to make this easier for us, Harry." Seamus observed, wearily. Harry shook his head, his eyes roving slowly over the little lane, looking for some sign of Flint's presence. The bell above the quaint little café Harry had been in many times with Draco rang noisily and Harry started. Before he had made any conscious decisions, he was moving towards the café, his grip almost clenching on his wand.

"Mate?" Seamus hollered, urgently, as Harry opened the door to the café and a jet of red light shot straight at his head. Harry ducked, unconsciously and Seamus's warm presence by his side grounded him and reassured him that his partner was uninjured. He raised his eyes to Flint's glinting ones, his own fierce. "It's over, mate." He said, his voice quite, hissing. Flint stepped back, the café was eerily silent; the smattering of people in the café frozen. He spun away from the focus of Harry's wand and roughly grabbed a little girl seated just beside where he stood from her mother's arms. The woman cried out, fearing for her daughter. The child screamed as Flint put his wand to her throat.

Harry froze and Flint laughed, cruelly. "I'm not squeamish, Potter." He sneered. "I am not the kind of person who uses a disarming spell on the Dark Lord, himself." His eyes burned with hate. "I can utter the killing curse." He promised, darkly. Harry smirked, suddenly. "Disarming spell or not, Flint, Voldemort is dead." He raised his hands and made a crude gesture. "Ashes and six feet under the ground." He smiled slowly and held out his arms. "I'm still here."

Flint's eyes darkened in rage and he raised his wand and held it pointed at Harry. "Marcus, mate, been very long." Someone called and Harry's heart jumped into his throat. _Stay out of this_, he thought tensely. Draco swaggered into Flint's line of sight, Pansy Parkinson close behind him. Harry's eyes narrowed at her. She stared coolly back. "Draco." Flint said, by way of greeting, his wand still trained on Harry. Draco held out as hand for Flint to shake. He turned to look at the blonde, incredulously. "Are you purposely misunderstanding the situation or are you just plain stupid?" He asked, turning his head away from Harry, his voice higher than usual. Harry pounced.

He pulled the girl easily out of Flint's slipping grip and rolled to the side, holding her protectively to his chest. Flint cursed and wildly cast the killing curse at Harry's crouching body. Draco stepped smoothly into the line of fire and someone cried out in anguish. It took Harry a moment to realize that it had been himself. Draco dropped almost tragically slow to the ground and Harry's magic went wild. It hissed around his head and lashed out surrounding Flint and lifting him high above the ground. Bleeding cuts appeared in precise slashes all over his arm and Flint yelled in pain. Harry clenched his teeth, his eyes wild. Seamus moved closer to Harry and put his arms around his trembling body, gently pulling the girl out of his shaking arms. "It's okay, mate." He whispered, calmly. "No, it's not." Harry snapped, his voice quivering with the need to cry. "_No one_'s hurt." Seamus said, loudly, more forcefully.

Harry turned to look around him, his eyes searching for Draco wildly. Draco was sitting up, Pansy's arms supporting his body, his eyes unnervingly intense, watching Harry. Relief coursed through Harry's body, suddenly. And like someone had poured cold water over him, he came to his senses, abruptly. Harry pulled the wild magic back forcefully into his core. Flint dropped to the ground, groaning. Harry spun after a cursory glance to make sure he was not dead and took a deep breath, making a conscious effort to control himself. He nodded to Seamus, asking him to go ahead and make the arrest. Seamus moved to do as he had been instructed to and Harry strode purposefully over to the blonde and knelt beside him.

His hand glowed green as Harry held it gently over Draco's abdomen. Draco watched, his eyes passionately focused on Harry's lowered head, his face blank. Pansy moved away and stood, her eyes coolly assessing, her lips curved into a small smile. When Harry did not detect any lasting damage, he sat back on his haunches, pulling his hands back to rest at his side. Unexpectedly, anger took the place of blissful relief. "What were you thinking, you bastard?" Harry snarled at Draco, his fists clenching with the urge to punch the git on his blank face. "I was thinking, that little girl's mum would hurt if something happened to her, Potter." Harry refused to admit that the use of his last name hurt. "We had it under control." He bit out. Draco sneered, with only quarter a portion of the malice of his old sneers. "Yes, that was rather obvious, wouldn't you say Pansy?" He drawled, not taking his eyes off Potter's face. Pansy did not reply, though her smile widened a fraction and her dark eyes danced.

Harry stood, aching all over. "Well, alright then." He turned without so much as a goodbye, not knowing if he could handle speaking to Draco for a moment without blurting out his feelings for the man. He turned to the waitress, who stood stunned and scared beside him. "The Auror Department will compensate for all the collateral damage, of course." He promised with a bland smile and she nodded, placated. "Come Seamus." He directed and walked out of the café, Flint tied up and unconscious, floating behind him as he walked. Flashing a bemused smile at Draco as he stood slowly and dusted himself off, Seamus stepped closer. "How come you're still alive, mate?" He asked in a whisper. "Pansy deflected the curse." Draco told him, amicably.

Nodding and flashing another smile at him and Pansy, Seamus retraced Harry's footsteps out of the café.

_Pansy Parkinson, who would have thought really? In actual fact though, I should have wondered what happened to her. She and Blaise Zabini, they had always been Malfoy's Hermione and Ron. Perhaps, he was in touch with Zabini as well. Yet, it didn't strike me till I saw her with him. And somehow knowing he wasn't alone, without any sympathizers in England, like he had told me what seemed like eons ago, made me feel a lot better about not standing guard over him every moment of every day. _

_I felt chills for a day or two after that incident. Mostly when I was alone at home after work, as Kingsley had dumped all the cases they couldn't solve the past two weeks on my head as soon as I had walked in on Monday. I was kept busy enough that I didn't floo-call him and enquire after his health every time I got a breather. Instead I took the time to actually breathe. Hermione and Ron left me alone for the most parts except for a few floo calls to enquire after my health. I hadn't had the heart to see Ginny mostly, so I did my best to avoid all meetings with her and ten felt terribly guilty after that. But because of that, evenings, I spent mostly alone at home. _

_But, the third evening back home, after I had rejoined, I had an unexpected visitor. _

Harry sunk into the couch in front of the fire with a groan, his cup of hot chocolate burning through his cold fingers, the warmth stealing slowly over his body. Who would have expected Kingsley to dump all the cases he could dig up on Harry to punish him for the vacations Kingsley himself that insisted that Harry take?

Harry had been told by Seamus that an illegal potions operation was in play and apparently, they messed with the constitution of the Dreamless Sleep Draught, which was singularly the most popular potion in the wizarding after the war, no questions asked. The reports had filled Harry with an almost burning desire to have these people out of the picture as soon as was humanly possible. _Hence, the ring folders on my coffee table and hence, no sleep for me_; he thought to himself, smiling tiredly. He twisted on the couch to give his throbbing back some relief, as pain crept in tendrils along his lower back and shoulder blades and reached for the first file.

The floo flared to life.

He jumped back upsetting the mug he had placed on the coffee table and spilling the burning liquid all over his hand. Cursing, he pulled his hand back to his chest, cradling it tenderly, willing the burn away. Someone cleared their throat and he glanced up crossly, wondering what anyone would want with him at this time in the night. He couldn't keep the surprise off his face when he saw the woman in the flames. Short black hair bobbed when she nodded to him and he stood still, frozen and wondering at the reason of her presence in his floo.

"What, Potter?" She snapped irritated. "Hasn't anybody flooed you anytime in your life before?" Harry frowned, "Are you calling this time of the night because you couldn't sleep and wanted to find me and get your daily does of insulting Harry Potter out of the way?" He retorted. She smirked. "There is something you need to know. Now would be the best time." Harry raised an eyebrow, waiting. "Step back, Potter, I'm coming through." Her head disappeared from the flames. "Of course, you can come through, I don't mind. Make yourself right at home." He mumbled, sarcastically, moving out of the way and lifting a few of his more intrinsic wards to allow her through, unhurt.

Then he wondered why he was bothering. He sat back on the couch with a sigh.

She stepped gracefully out of the floo a scant moment later, her silky emerald green robes, perfectly creaseless, not a hint of soot on them. Harry stood, raising an eyebrow, flinching inwardly in distaste, her robes reminding him of his own flamboyant wedding robes. "Parkinson, I would say, this is a pleasure, but you wouldn't believe me." He said, by way of greeting. She smiled, unpleasantly, her pretty eyes sharp and intelligent. They reminded Harry for some obscure reason of Draco's gunmetal grey eyes. "Likewise." Pansy said, her tone sibilant. Harry held out his hand for her to shake. She stared at him, for an intense moment, not moving to take the hand. Feeling awkward, Harry made to drop his hand. She slid forward then, moving fluently, almost like water, and took his hand in her dainty one, giving it a sharp shake.

Harry's lips slid into an easy smile as he offered her a seat. She lowered herself into his wing-backed chair. Harry took a moment to wonder if wing-backed chairs were the first preference of all pure-bloods and sank into the couch opposite to her. He gestured forward when her eyes sharpened. "Talk." He said, simply.

She smiled, a gentle, contemplative smile and Harry was taken aback.

"I wondered if I should come to you with this Potter. I have been thinking about this since Draco's arrival back in England." Harry stiffened when she paused. "So this is about Draco?" He took the present Lord Malfoy's name unconsciously, like it was natural, like he had been using his christened name his entire life. Pansy's smile grew sharper, more shark-like. She observed him, quietly, for a still moment. "I think..." she said, slowly, drawing out the syllables, "that perhaps, you already knew that, Potter." She settled back into the chair, her eyes on his face. "What other reason _would_ I have for meeting you?" Harry nodded, easing back into the couch.

"Go ahead, then." Harry smiled, almost bitterly. "Say your piece; you're the only one left." Again Pansy watched him carefully for a few moments. "I don't think I understand, Potter." Pansy drawled, leaning forward in her chair, her eyes intense. "It certainly looks to me like you've admitted to yourself at least, that Draco's who you want." She said, bluntly. Harry started on the couch and flushed. Pansy smirked. "Why won't you go after him?"

"Is that any of your business, Parkinson?" Harry snapped, uncomfortable.

"Tell me why it's not, Potter." Pansy challenged, her smile becoming dangerous. "Tell me why it's not my business when Draco's involved." Harry shook his head and stood. "Would you perhaps like something to drink?" He asked, almost desperately. Pansy stood as well. "No, what I _would_ like is to know why you're running away from what you want." Harry whirled on his way to the kitchen, his eyes accusing. "You wouldn't understand if I told you." He hissed.

"Try me." Pansy dared, her lips turned up in an ugly sneer. Harry glared; his eyes uncomfortable in their intensity. "I think I know what you're going to tell me, Potter." Pansy walked forward till she was looking up into Harry's eyes, her finger prodding at his chest. "I want you to see how plebian and just lame, for the lack of a better word, it sounds."

To Harry's sudden amusement, she widened her eyes comically and said earnestly, "It would hurt Ginny if I made you mine, Draco." Her choice of words made Harry blush, even as he couldn't stop the smile that lit his face. "Ginny would be heart-broken, Draco. I can't hurt the Weasleys that way." She mocked, looking for all the world like she was in horrible pain. "I do not look or speak like that." Harry said, affronted, yet chuckling quietly.

"It's all a matter of perspective, Potter." Pansy retorted, a perfect replica of Draco's sneer on her face. It had irritated Harry before, but now all it did was amuse him. "It's not like that." Harry tried, again. "If I were actually hurting Draco or causing him some horrible worry by acting this way, then it would be definitely different. But why would what I do matter when Draco does not even know that I feel that way about him or feel that way about me in return?"

"Oh, Potter, how are you surviving in this world when you're so very blasé?" Pansy moaned with a pitying expression on her face, raising a hand to rub at her temple. Harry raised an eyebrow, confused. "Precious Potter, Draco has been- what's the word I'm looking for- enamored with you for years." Pansy cooed, her voice sugary sweet. Harry was stunned into stillness. "E-enamored? Draco? With-with me?" He stammered, embarrassingly. Pansy smiled. She absolutely refused to think of Potter as endearing in any light. "You were so charmingly oblivious, Potter, you daft prat." She used the word 'charming' as if it were a heinous crime to be so. "But please tell me, it's finally, finally sunk in?"

"Draco and me?" Harry repeated, enraptured by the possibility that the idea wasn't an impossibility.

"Yes, yes, Draco and you, if..." She paused, Harry turned to look at her, his eyes glinting. "If you set your idiotic Gryffindor hero tendencies aside and dump the Weaslette." Harry's face closed up like a shut door. Pansy sighed, irritated. "Don't be a martyr, Potter. Please, don't hurt Draco anymore." Harry started. "You hurt him enough when you refused his hand in the first year." Harry blinked, surprised. "And then you hurt him throughout every time he spoke to you, even though he was always biting. It took a lot of effort for him to hate you, you know and it hurt him to hurt you." "I _didn't_ know." Harry confessed, a bit confused.

"Draco's always been a bit enamored with you, Potter." Pansy said reminiscently. "Always wanted to be a part of your life, always wanted to be the reason you smiled, the person you spoke to when your problems got too hard for you to shoulder." Pansy smiled, fondly. "He never realized that he wanted to be a part of your life so very much that he did not mind being the antogonizer, if even that role was granted to him."

Harry listened, wondering doubtfully at the truth of her words. It had never seemed that way to him. "You and Draco, Potter, is something that was just waiting to happen." Pansy said, conclusively, standing up, rather abruptly. "The day after tomorrow is Draco's game and after that Potter, he'll leave, he'll go back to Bulgaria and he will in all possibility not come back." She paused and looked almost pleadingly at Harry. "You are the only one who can give him reason enough to stay."

Harry took a deep breath telling himself almost desperately not to full out panic. To be as important as all that to one person was rather a terrifying thought. _But then_, he thought reasonably, _Draco was as important to him as well. _

"Don't be a martyr, Potter." Pansy warned again, stepping into the floo. "Doing what you're doing now is making a lot of people unhappy. Breaking up with the Weaslette is hurting only her and making almost a dozen other people happy, not to mention yourself which is possibly your biggest incentive for doing thus."

"Decide wisely." She bid as farewell and then flooed out. Harry collapsed onto the couch, his head swimming.

_I had made a mistake. Marrying Ginny was in all actuality never part of my plan. It shouldn't have been either, because I did not love her. Faced with __all__ the reasons why I should not marry her, the conclusion I was supposed to draw was undeniable. And for the most part, I was done hesitating. I only had one thing left to do. I flooed 'Mione and Ron though, the next day, before I spoke to Ginny, and told them that knowing that Draco was being hurt too, was not something I was going to ignore. I told Ron I hoped that he could forgive me. _

_He had guffawed and stared at me like I was barmy, "Aren't you getting it, mate?" He had asked. "This was what you were supposed to do all along." I had smiled and closing the floo connection, apparated to the Burrow._

Harry knocked on the doorand waited, trying not to fidget. He heard shuffling inside and forced his hands to his side to keep from wringing them. Arthur pulled open the door and smiled when he saw the visitor. Harry smiled back, a slightly edged smile from the nervousness. "You wish to speak with Ginny." Arthur said, knowingly, his eyes gentle. Harry nodded, guiltily. Arthur called for Ginny and then turned back to Harry. "No one here will begrudge you your happiness, Harry. You are as much ours as Ron is." Harry smiled gratefully, squeezing the man's hand. "Thank you, sir." He said, moving a few steps backward when Ginny came hurtling out of the door and threw herself into his arms. Arthur nodded, encouragingly almost and turned and walked back into the house shutting the door gently behind him.

Harry squeezed her slight frame one last time, savoring the closeness of a dear friend. Then he pushed her away and glanced into her confused blue eyes, so much like Ron's, but so different. "We need to talk, Ginny." He said, hoping his voice didn't shake. She smiled grimly, unpleasantly. "I don't like the sound of that, Harry." Her frame was tense, her voice saturated with an emotion Harry didn't think he could name. "Do you think this is going anywhere, Gin?" Harry asked, softly, trying his best not to unnecessarily hurt her feelings. "This thing between us?" Ginny walked forward slowly and leaned against the stile. Harry squatted on the stile beside her.

"We are meant to be, Harry." She whispered, her voice drenched in hurt. "From the first day, I knew I would marry you." Harry stayed silent, wondering what he could do to take away her pain. "It has always been you, Harry." She turned to look at him, her eyes wet. "Always you." Harry sighed, his chest aching and jumped off the stile. "You can't help whom you fall in love with, Gin." He said, after a moment's pause, wondering for the umpteenth time if he was doing the right thing. The crickets chirped ardently all around them and the fresh scent of rose and thyme soaked through the air of the small, well-maintained garden. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

"Who are you throwing me away for?" Her voice was bordering on angry now and Harry had learned long ago to read the danger signs. "Which slut are you dumping me for Harry Potter?" She barked, her fingers clenched around the stile. Harry turned to face her, his face blank, eyes flashing in subtle warning. "Draco Malfoy, if you must know." He answered, his hand clenched around his wand in his jean pocket in event that Ginny went wild. "Malfoy?" She whispered and she sounded so _hurt _and it was all Harry could do to not hug her to him and tell her he didn't mean for what happened to happen, assure that if it was up to him, he would love Ginny all his natural life.

"Have you ever loved me, Harry?" She asked, finally. "Once, even for a little while?" She raised her eyes to look into his wet green ones. "Or where you indulging me all this while?" Harry was shaking his head before she had completed her sentence. "Once, I did." He promised. "Once, you were the most important person to me, Ginny." She turned, "I don't want to hear it." She yelled. "You are a bastard, Potter." She snarled, stomping back into the house. "You cheated me, you led me on and then killed my heart by falling for the man I couldn't possibly hate anymore than I do."

She pointed a finger at him, her eyes blazing. "I hope your evil Death-Eater lover dies and you live miserably all the rest of your life." She sneered. "Faggot." She threw. Harry's magic hissed around his head and he held on with all his might, knowing that she needed to get it off her chest. "I don't want to see your dirty fairy face in my life every again." She yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Fuck off and don't come back." She slammed the door in his face.

Harry stood still for long moments, feeling numb. Then he wondered if he was ill because all he felt at that point was relief that it was over. Finally.

_Ron had called on me that evening with Hermione. "A toast to the bachelor!" he had said, laughingly and clinked his wine-glass with mine and Hermione's. I had smiled uncomfortably and Ron had smiled gently at me. "This is something you should have done soon after the war, mate. For your good and Ginny's." Hermione nodded, "Well, better late than never, Harry, love." She took my hand in hers. "Ginny is young still, she will get over you and fall in love with someone who can return her attentions." _

_I nodded, feeling marginally better. "Don't let this stop you from taking what you want when you still can, mate." Ron said, his eyes twinkling. I was pretty sure I had gone red then. Hermione cooed, "Aww, he's blushing, Ron." Ron had chuckled. "At least, now, we know who is on top." Hermione had snickered and I had protested loudly. _

_All round, when Hermione and Ron had left, I was happy, confident and when I smiled at my reflection in the mirror that night, it had been the smug smile of a man in love and aware and proud of it. _

"All the best, Harry." Hermione said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Don't fuck this up, mate." Seamus said, laughingly, handing Harry the Locker-Room pass. Harry smiled gratefully at Seamus. "Thanks for this, Seamus." Seamus winked, "I'll call in the favor when we have paperwork on week-ends." He waved and followed Ron up to the stands. Hermione made a final attempt at flattening his hair and straightening his cloths. "Go for it, love." She said as farewell and then left to find her seat in the Gallery. Harry took a deep breath and made his way to the locker-room.

He pushed open the wire-mesh door and walked in, his heart beating in his throat.

"Mr. Potter." The Bulgarian coach, a man who reminded him almost painfully of Sirius stood with a welcoming smile from his seat close to the changing rooms. "This is a pleasure, young man." He pumped Harry's hand vigorously. "Likewise, sir." Harry smiled. "I'm just here to wish your team the best." _And seduce your Seeker, if he's willing, _He added wordlessly. "They will be honored, I'm sure." The coach replied, his eyes twinkling. He turned and called for the Captain. All the members of the Bulgarian team, with the exception of their Seeker were clothed in their Quidditch robes and had their brooms in their hands. Harry shook their hands one by one recognizing one of the Chasers as the man whom he had seen with Draco days ago in the Leaky Cauldron.

"You must excuse our Seeker. His friend was with him the whole morning and she just left to the Gallery. He's only just gone to change into his robes." The Coach told Harry, almost apologetically after his team had left the Locker-Room. "Of course, I don't mind waiting." The Coach smiled. "Very well, you don't mind if I head out as well? Nobody needs to give Draco any confidence before a game, he's well aware of his prowess." The man shrugged. "But I can't very well say the same about the rest of my team." Harry grinned in triumph and held the door open for the man. "Please." He told him.

After a last-handshake, the Coach left, leaving Harry alone in the Locker-Room with Draco. It was too quiet and Harry found himself staring hard at each of the changing room doors wondering which one Draco was in. He caught himself and flushed.

"Can someone hand me my gloves?" Draco hollered suddenly his voice coming from some room on left-row of cubicles. Harry looked around for the gloves that Draco was missing and saw them lying on one of the benches. He grabbed them and hollered back, "Which room are you in?" There was a pause. "Harry?" Draco wondered, out loud. Harry smiled, suddenly. "No, it's the ghost of Christmas Past." He chuckled. "Of course, it's me, prat." He added, affectionately. "Now which room are you in?" The last door on the left side was thrown open and Draco strode out, looking almost majestic in his black and silver quidditch robes. Harry reminded himself to breathe. Without pausing, he pulled Harry into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of Harry's neck. Harry smiled against Draco's shoulder, finally- _finally!_ -honestly happy.

"You came." Draco breathed into Harry's neck. "I didn't think you would." Harry pulled away and whacked Draco around his head. Draco stepped back looking shocked. Harry smirked, "That was something I wanted to do that day. I'm glad I finally got the opportunity, what with the amount of shit you were spouting. Death Eater, indeed!" He snorted. Draco smirked and punched Harry on his bicep. Harry glared, hissing. "That was for not stopping me, git." He said, smugly. Harry smiled, rather shyly and held out Draco's gloves. Slowly, without taking his eyes of Harry's, he took them and slipped them on.

Without warning, he spun Harry and pushed him against the wall. "I've wanted to do this for a very very long time, Hero." He said his voice barely above a whisper. "Stop me now and you can walk out of here unmolested." Harry smirked. "Who says I _want_ to walk out unmolested?" He leant closer and felt Draco stiffen against him. "What would you do if I said that I had walked in here _to be_ molested?" Draco groaned and leant forward, capturing Harry's lips in a powerful kiss. Someone gasped and Harry wondered if it had been him. Draco pulled back almost immediately, breathing harshly. Harry wondered if he was expected to stay conscious after something like that.

"I'm in love with you, Harry." Draco said, a moment later.

Harry looked up, his heart pumping like a piston, all the blood draining out of his face. "I…" he tried to return the sentiment; Merlin knew it was true, but he could not find his voice. Draco smiled and shook his head. "Never mind. Just….don't push me away, again, Simply Harry." Draco breathed, his gloved hand resting beside Harry's head on the wall. Harry shook his head, unable to form any words. Draco leaned closer still, his lips now curved slightly. "Be with me, Harry." He said, nuzzling Harry's stubbled cheek. "Be mine." Harry's breath hitched as the thyme and pine scent assaulted his senses again. "Draco…" He moaned, his eyes closing and his hands rising and curling around Draco's neck. "I'm here." He said, placing butterfly kisses on Harry's closed lids, "I'm not going anywhere, love." Harry opened his eyes as Draco moved closer and placed another kiss on Harry's nose. "I'm not going anywhere for a very long time." He promised, moving back and watching Harry.

Fisting his hands in Draco's quidditch robes, Harry pulled him forward and touched their mouths together in the sweetest, slowest possible kiss. It was nothing but a gentle slide of skin on skin, but Harry's breath stuttered in his throat and gasping, his gut clenching in pleasure; he deepened the kiss. His hands moved to cup Draco's face, holding it gently between his palms, enjoying the feel of the smooth skin.

Draco's lips were smooth and warm under Harry's and he tasted lingeringly of mint. Harry felt drunk on the taste and his scent was causing some sort of meltdown inside Harry's head. Their kisses were wet, lingering and languid and Harry wondered if he could ever bring himself to stop kissing Draco.

Draco's right arm slid around Harry, slipping downwards and curling contently, snugly around his waist. His left rose and slipped behind Harry's head, cushioning it. Their lips clung together, almost desperately and when Harry shifted, even slightly, Draco followed; as if he would die if he lost contact with Harry for even that fraction of a second. Harry pulled away slightly, his eyes sparkling at the dazed look in Draco's.

"This alright?" He asked Draco, smiling rather mischievously. Draco grinned and leaned back in again. They kissed lazily for long moments, aware only of each other; their hearts beating in sync and the blood rushing through their veins a glorious crescendo in the background. Draco slipped out his tongue and ran it gently, coaxingly along the seam of Harry's lips. Harry opened his mouth immediately, moaning softly at the silken feel of the warm muscle as Draco's tongue slid gently, playfully over Harry's front teeth. Then he pulled back slightly, laying feather soft kisses at the corner of Harry's mouth and then a gentle press over the full swell of his lips.

Draco pulled back completely, breathing heavily and smirking at Harry's thoroughly debauched look before leaning back in and nipping playfully at Harry's bottom lip. He sucked with gentle pressure on the top lip for a few moments and then reluctantly walked back a few steps, retracting his hands gently from around Harry, smiling softly when Harry reached out to him, unconsciously.

"Loathe as I am to leave you, sweetheart…" He drawled and then smiled, delighted when Harry blushed, his eyes lingering over Harry's kiss-swollen lips. "They can't play the game without a seeker."

_And that was that really. One glance at my face after I had found my way into the gallery told Ron, Hermione and Seamus everything they wanted to know. As Draco flew in, slightly late, but in top form and almost glowing, Ron and Seamus congratulated me at the top of their voices and Hermione smiled a soft, proud smile at me. _

_Draco caught the snitch that day, taking his team to victory in the finals. When the Captain was handed the trophy, the Bulgarians lifted Draco high into the air and as I stood up to cheer, his eyes connected with mine. He had smiled smugly, his eyes glowing triumphantly and bowed his head. I had laughed giddily, feeling a euphoric sense of déjà vu. _

Harry frowned when the bell rang, rubbing at his eyes that were aching from his intense perusal of some old case-reports. He stood slowly, tapping into his wards to find out who was at the door. Draco's magical signature surrounded him and left the blood singing in his veins. Smiling happily, he left the reports on the table and told himself not to run to the door. Instead, breathing deeply, he walked slowly and resisted the horrifying urge to run to the bathroom and make sure his hair looked fine. He pulled open the door just as Draco raised his hand to knock on the door.

He smiled beautifully when he saw Harry. "I thought you weren't home." He was dressed in pressed black slacks and a wine-colored shirt with an intricate black design over his heart. Harry raised an eyebrow, curiously, leaning against the door frame. "Going somewhere?" Draco shook his head. "Coming from somewhere, actually." He looked at Harry from under his lashes. "Aren't you going to let me in?" Harry stepped aside, wordlessly, his heart thudding in his chest, shivering as Draco's warmth brushed past him on his way inside. "Coming from where, exactly?" Harry followed him into the kitchen. Draco turned, his eyes twinkling. "Victory party of sorts." He smirked. "I escaped to spend time with you." He moved closer and Harry took a step back, unconsciously. "You better be grateful, Potter." Draco whispered, his eyes hooded, wrapping his arms around Harry. "Is that right?" Harry asked, impishly, his arms creeping around Draco's neck. "Mm-hmm, missed you." Draco murmured, pulling Harry flush against him and claiming his lips.

His hands curled around Harry's waist and Harry's crept slowly down and rested snugly at the small of Draco's back. Draco nipped urgently at Harry's lips and Harry opened his mouth immediately, letting Draco in. He kissed Harry ardently, like he had been waiting his whole life for a taste. Draco tasted the same as he had that afternoon, slightly minty with the undertones of thyme. Harry wondered why he smelt and tasted the same. Then the scent of thyme assaulted his senses and he realized he was confusing Draco's scent with his taste. Disoriented, Harry pulled away. He breathed hard, his pupils wide and lust blown.

Draco drew him back into his arms. "Having doubts, Potter?" He asked, quietly, his eyes focused intensely on Harry's face. Harry shook his head, almost desperately and kissed Draco again, drinking in his flavor, shifting so that Draco could feel the evidence of Harry's excitement against his thigh. Harry felt Draco's answering hard-on and deepened the kiss, his hands curling into Draco's feather soft hair and tugging once. In retaliation, Draco's nimble fingers crept under Harry's shirt and he tweaked a dusky nipple harshly. Harry broke away from his lips, gasping sharply, his head thrown back.

Draco's hands were quidditch roughened and the subsequent gentleness with which he used them was a huge turn-on. Draco claimed Harry's lips again, hot, needy and wet, lapping urgently at his mouth. Draco's hands trailed downwards slipping open button after button on Harry's shirt and when his hand crept into Harry's boxers, Harry pulled back, arching and panting, his lips swollen. "Ung…bed…bedroom…" He moaned when Draco's head lowered and his teeth latched on a nipple. Draco raised his head, his pupils lust-blown, his eyes a dark turbulent grey, almost black color. "Where?" was all he could get out, coherently. Harry raised a hand and pointed at the ceiling, "Somewhere there." He bit out, arching into Draco's hand when his hand curled unexpectedly around Harry's cock.

"Dra…-ah!...co…bedroom…" Harry panted again. Draco smirked. "So beautiful, Harry, so beautiful, flushed and incoherent all for me." He whispered against Harry's ear, tongue tracing the shell of Harry's ear. Harry groaned and threw his head back, crying out when it thumped hard against the wall.

Tripping over their feet and stopping every few paces to kiss desperately, they finally tumbled into Harry's bedroom. They fell back on the bed and Draco immediately trapped Harry between his arms and raised himself above him, pulling off Harry's glasses and looking longingly into Harry's eyes. Harry smiled softly and leaned up, kissing Draco, gently, nipping and sucking at his mouth. Draco moved down Harry's prone body and when he swirled his tongue around one of his pebbled nipples, Harry realized that he had lost his shirt somewhere as they made their way to the bedroom. He felt a sharp nip on the inside of his thigh and that sent all thoughts of lost shirts out of his mind. His body bowed off the bed and he groaned Draco's name.

"Please…" He cried as Draco teased his tip. Draco paused, grinning at Harry. "What do you want, Hero?" He asked. "Want to…cum…inside me, please…" He cried as Draco pressed down, smearing the pre-come over the tip of Harry's cock. Draco's eyes darkened and he moved almost like a feline up Harry's body. "Sure?" He asked, looking intently into Harry's eyes for any sign of foolish bravado. Harry nodded, impatiently. "Move it." He hissed. "What can I use?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse, his eyes smoky. "Lotion…" Harry pointed to the night stand. Draco reached over Harry and extracted a bottle of greenish blue liquid. Harry watched his mouth partially open and eyes glazed as Draco dipped his fingers into the bottle.

And then, he lost almost everything in the kaleidoscope of sensations as Draco stretched him open, whispering silkily in his ears. "Yes, open up for me, my love, so perfect….so beautiful…" Harry arched and whimpered, begging, pleading and Draco gave. Harry's vision swam dizzyingly when Draco entered. He reached up and clutched at Draco's pale shoulders whimpering almost helplessly, dots of different colors dancing behind his closed lids. Draco gripped Harry's ankles and moved them up to place them on his shoulders. "Open your eyes, Harry." He whispered his voice breaking as he thrust. "I want…fuck…to see your beautiful green eyes."

Harry opened his eyes and arched off the bed as Draco sank deeper into him. "Cum for me, love." Draco said, his teeth clenched and Harry's body bent backwards like a bow; as he and Draco transcend the cliff together and fell and fell and fell. Draco collapsed on top of Harry pulling out, panting softly in his ears. "I think you killed me." Harry muttered, murmuring a wandless cleaning spell. Draco huffed out a chuckle and drew the blanket over them. "Draco…" Harry whispered, his eyes drooping. "I love you too." Draco laughed. "Rather a delayed reaction, but very much appreciated, nonetheless." He spooned Harry as he heard the man's breathing deepen and closed his eyes himself, gently getting lulled by Harry's breathing into sleep.

_When I woke the next morning, I was so pleasantly sore and more rested than I had ever been in my life. I heard the pitter-patter of rain on my window and stretched; content. But Draco wasn't on the bed beside me. It didn't worry me though. I cuddled my pillow and tried to drift off. _

_I thought maybe things couldn't get better than they were, but Draco proved me wrong, yet again. _

Harry groaned when he heard the tapping on his window. If it was an owl, it could bloody die. The taping was insistent though and Harry sat up, looking curiously over to the huge window a few paces from his bed. It was pouring outside and he saw the blurry outline of a form on the broom. Incredulous he got out of bed and crossed over to the window. He pushed it open and he got drenched almost at once. He realized he was missing his shirt. He glanced up at the man on the hovering broom. Draco grinned at him.

"Harry Potter." He said, in a perfectly serious voice. "Would you elope to the Caribbean's with me?" Harry stared at him incredulously. "What?" Draco asked, innocently. "We have a broom, rain…" he paused and gestured at himself, "…old sweats and tattered jeans and each other." He winked at Harry. "What are we missing?" Abruptly, Harry recalled the time he had told Draco of his wedding fantasy. Harry grinned back and grabbed his sweatshirt from the cloth rack.

Leaning out of the window, he threw his leg over the broom behind Draco and swung himself on it. Draco turned his head and gave Harry a wet, longing kiss. Harry pulled his window shut from outside. Draco grinned. "Hang on…." He yelled over the rain. Harry slid closer and held him tight. Draco hollered and they shot sharply up into the sky, Harry laughing all the way.

_It might not have been the fairy tale ending of my dreams, where I ride away into the sunset, the girl I loved in my arms. But as I held on tight to Draco and we flew yelling through the heavy rain on a broom stick that would in all possibility not survive all the way to the Caribbean, I thought it came pretty damn close. _

_Life was, for a change, pretty fucking good….!_


End file.
